Baldur's Gate: The Price of Redemption
by Brynn Dharielle
Summary: Simple coincidence links the fates of Toreen and Nehera with the existence of the Bhaalspawn, placing them in grave danger. On such a road, unlikely allies are met and important lessons await. Features characters from BG1 and BG2, but no specific PC.
1. Chapter I

**Note:** _This story is pretty old. It was first written long before being posted here. I started it in... 2002, probably. Although it underwent some revamping when it got posted, that was hardly enough. My point in all of this is that it starts out as rather childish and the writing lacks quality. It's horrible by my current standards._

_I didn't even have a beta-reader back then, and now it's a bit too late for her to help fix these old chapters._ _That's to warn you. If you can bear through the start, it does get a little better later on, and in the 20-something chapters the writing itself is boosted as well.__ That's it, pretty much._

**NOTE ADDED NOVEMBER 26, 2009:** _If you're stumbling upon this story right now, it really is not the best time to read it. As it says above, it fails. Added to that, I'm editing it. Details on my profile. Story and characters won't change, but... it'll be that much better a read?_

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**Chapter One**

The ship seemed to somehow grow heavier and sink a little deeper into the water, its swift journey becoming more focused as it was losing speed. The island of Brynnlaw was well within sight, and the breeze so specific to shores was already affecting the atmosphere. The disordered city, the only one on the island, was agitated, and most likely noisy, at that specific hour of the day. More ships could be seen docked on the sides of wooden platforms ahead.

The black-haired elven woman opened her eyes and stood up. She had been sitting on a crate, half asleep, for quite some while, rather oblivious to what was going on around her, but the agitation produced by land-sight had torn her from that state. She noticed a few men staring her way, just as she was flipping her black hair, in an attempt to give it some sort of shape, any kind, really, just not the totally messy one she assumed it had. They were, no doubt, measuring her two sheathed longswords and the green elven chain mail she wore. They must have aimed to guess her skill in making use of those, but thankfully she was pretty well-built for an elf, and that helped her. Had she not been a seasoned fightress, they would have surely tried something by now... something that she really wasn't in the mood for. That was why, when she turned fully to them, it was only to assure them that her strength was not a mere appearance; she fixed them with the icy glare of her deep blue eyes and simply stood there, menacingly grim, until they took off one by one, motioning for another place and something else to stare at.

With one last scowl, the elf turned again, and walked towards the parapet, settling her elbows upon it in a light lean-in move. She studied the island's full silhouette in the distance, for a few moments, taking in every detail she could make out, and then she frowned a bit, pursing her lips with some sort of unexplainable discomfort. She turned her head, searching the ship for something, and finally detached from her spot, heading for some stairs that led up to a platform, where a tall man stood posted firmly, supervising the crew.

"Captain," she said as she stopped behind him and bowed her head in recognition of his superiority to her for as long as she traveled on his ship. But her tone, as usual, gave out nothing more than strictly necessary. She pointed to the side. "That outspread shadow, far-off on the island... What is it?"

"Ah... Miss Toreen." The captain could barely keep from showing his surprise, resulting from not having noticed her approach; but he was still polite, as he had been during the entire trip. He was quick to recover. "That would be Spellhold, or the place where, as they call it, 'the magically deviant' are held."

"I see." The elf rubbed her chin with one hand, lost in thought for a few moments. "Thank you, captain."

"It was my pleasure, Miss."

She didn't mind the man anymore, even though surely his politeness held only the best intent, and she walked off back down the small wooden staircase. She headed for a nearby cabin door and opened it, not bothering to enter, but obviously looking at someone inside, which she immediately addressed, as well.

"Nirra, come out; we're almost there!"

She could barely keep from stomping her foot, with the agitated impatience already taking control of her, as she was waiting for the other one to come out. She stepped away from the entrance, and soon another elven woman came out of the cabin. This one was blond, of fragile and delicate build, even for an elf, and wearing simple blue traveler's robes. Her eyes were brown, deep, her expression filled with dreamy innocence, and her only weapon was a black wooden staff, obviously enchanted, by the strange way it glittered. The pallor of her skin and the insecurity of her walk let out that she'd been feeling less than fine.

The two walked towards the parapet together, and settled there, to watch the island grow bigger and more defined as they approached.

"Finally..." Nirra almost whispered with obvious relief.

"Hmph." Her companion rolled her eyes. "This trip was actually refreshing... But you spent most of the time in that rat hole they dare call a cabin, so you wouldn't know."

"Oh, Torri... You wouldn't say that if you were seasick, like me."

"Yeah, right," Torri muttered. "As if fresh air would've harmed you."

But Nirra just left things at that and continued to watch the island, with the azure sky above it, trying to avoid seeing the water, since that would have only caused her to be sick again. Torri turned her head to watch her friend attentively, then she narrowed her eyes as the shadow of a superior and all-knowing smile curled her lips.

"Thinking of him again, aren't you?" she asked, rather ironically.

"Oh..." Nirra sighed again, but differently this time, almost blushing a bit. "Yes, I am... Sometimes, Torri, I really wish you would fall in love, just for once. Then you wouldn't mock me anymore."

"Yes, well," Torri retorted, unaffected. "Maybe I could love someone if men weren't all such overrated morons."

"How about your interests then?" Nirra asked, in a more curious fashion. "Maybe you could get your hands on one of those rich noblemen if you actually tried to."

Torri's face clouded, as she feigned a childish pout and looked at her friend from the corners of her eyes. "I would rather kiss a drow than even touch one of those selfish, arrogant bastards."

"Maybe you'll get the chance?" Nirra chuckled in amusement. "We're close enough to the Underdark."

Torri looked down at the waters, pressing a bite to her lower lip. "Well." She waved a dismissing hand, doing her best to still seem calm and careless. "If we do indeed meet a drow, I fear that my sword will take care of him before I ever get the chance."

Nirra laughed, not at the joke, of course, but much rather at her friend's antics. "You're hopeless!"

"Hopeless?" Torri frowned. "How so?"

But she didn't get an answer; Nirra was pensive again.

"...What is it, this time?" Torri said, looking at her friend with a slight trace of worry.

"Nothing." Her companion barely took notice enough to reply to her.

"Am I supposed to believe that, Nirra?" The black haired elf pursed her lips, holding back from pressing any further and tapping her fingers on the taffrail, impatiently.

"Well..." The blond elf averted her eyes, looking away, to the far reaches of the sky. "You would mock me again if I told you."

"No." Torri shook her head, something in the other elf's attitude compelling her to be serious and quite concerned. "I..."

Nirra glanced at her friend for a single moment, before looking away again. "I was thinking... Although most of my kin, the gold elves, think all of the drow are evil... that is not true."

"But of course it is true!" Torri scowled, fixing her friend with a questioning look.

"No..." Nirra shook her head, causing light tension among the strands of blond hair. "There are those of them who turn to the light... And their fate is so cruel... Think of it a little, Torri. They are condemned to being hunted by both drow and surface dwellers alike, maybe for the rest of their lives... They're sent into absolute exile."

"Oh." Torri's face darkened visibly and she remained that way.

"It troubled you?" Nirra was quick to get concerned as well. "I apologize."

Torri sighed softly. "Discussing the drow is acceptable from time to time, although you know how I feel about them. But the word 'exile' is one I wish I wouldn't have to hear."

"Ah." Nirra seemed to be affected by the thought as well. "You mean _the_ Exile?"

"Not only, but yes." Torri nodded. "Him, and all the trouble he has caused. Your people banished him, cursed him. And still, he's out there somewhere and that makes my skin crawl. Had it been my people instead of yours, Joneleth Irenicus would be dead now."

Nirra attempted a soft smile, shaking her head in gentle disagreement. "His punishment was far worse than death."

"Yes, but..." Torri took a small break, considering if she should voice that last thought or not. Finally, she decided to do it. "He still has a chance to return. I doubt he isn't planning any sort of revenge at all. Both your Queen and the Tree are in great danger."

"Yes." Nirra sighed. "Some of us also think that way. Not even Queen Ellesime herself doubts it, I believe."

"Well." Torri swallowed tightly. "I really don't want to talk about your Exile anymore. It still brings back those unrelated memories, no matter how hard I try to stay on topic."

"I... I know."

The two remained silent and clouded with thoughts further on, even as the ship docked and the landing platform was set in place. The passengers began to slowly head to shore, descending the wooden board, but the two remained among the last, dallying absent-mindedly. Finally, they proceeded to the actual docks, along with the last group of people.

"I'm so happy to be off the ship!" Nirra said as soon as she felt solid ground under her feet, and she took a couple of healthy deep breaths.

"It doesn't make any difference to me." Torri shrugged a little, following right behind. "The only thing that bothered me were those imbeciles that kept staring at me, but I've no doubt we'll find enough of those here, as well."

"Why are we here, anyway?" Nirra became suddenly curious.

"Do you remember the pirates we helped, a while back, with getting away from the Shadow Thieves in Athkatla?" Torri took a small break, to see Nirra nod, then went on. "Their captain promised that, if we ever came here, the priestess in the Temple of Umberlee would have an enchanted ring for us, as a reward."

"Umberlee?" Nirra asked, wiggling her nose, with a bit of disgust.

"Yes, the Bitch Goddess of the Deeps," Torri replied, though knowing better than to insult a deity more openly, even one not worshiped among those of her kind. "We'll just take the ring and leave."

Nirra laughed. "I think I can survive such a short visit."

"Let's go, then. The temple should be right up some stone steps around here."

They started walking along the city's lowest street, the one that went along the wooden dockside, alert and looking for the mentioned steps.


	2. Chapter II

**Chapter Two**

"Look," said Nirra, pointing to the left, between two fairly tall houses. "Those must be our stairs."

"Probably so."

At Torri's inattentive reply, Nirra turned around, curious about what might have been distracting her friend.

It seemed that a gnome and a human were discussing a matter, rather heatedly. The human had drawn a pointy short-sword, which he was pointing at his much shorter interlocutor. The latter, pressed against a wall, was trying his best not to tremble and cower, not having where to back off anymore. He was old, gray-haired and fragile, with a very long and thick beard, a sign of respectable wisdom among his people.

"Please..." the gnome was just pleading. "I don't have that much money..." It was obvious that he was making a great effort to keep his voice steady and unfaltering in front of the danger.

"We've warned you, my 'friend'," the other one spat between clenched jaws. "It's your duty as a... citizen... to pay your taxes to Lord Desharik. I don't need to remind you that Amnish law doesn't extend to this place, do I?" He held out his free hand. "You owe one hundred gold pieces. "

The old gnome let out a weak whimper and closed his eyes, awaiting his punishment as he involuntarily pushed himself tighter into the wall.

Unable to stand the sight, but not knowing what she could do, Nirra averted her eyes from the scene, clinging to Torri's arm. "Shouldn't we help him?" she whispered.

"Shh..." The moon elf discreetly pointed her back to the scene.

Nirra turned just in time to see another man, a fully cloaked and hooded figure -- obviously a male though. The stranger placed his hand on the debt collector's shoulder, holding him off.

"I will pay for him," he said calmly. There was a subtle threat masked behind those words, compelling the collector to look down and lower the sword.

Still, a rough man, used to a hard life, the pirate was not fully intimidated. "Who the hell are..."

"No one you should concern yourself with, I assure you," the hooded figure interrupted him, slipping him a full gem satchel.

He seemed ready to force the pirate to accept and clench his fingers over it, but there was no need for that. Despite whatever reasons he might have hesitated for, the collector could still recognize his own benefit.

"This is worth _far_ more than one hundred gold pieces," the cloaked man added. "I do believe this good gnome is safe from paying any taxes for... say, his entire life."

There was something about this man that gave no room for defiance. At least not in the current situation, when crossing him wouldn't even be worth the effort. He knew how to play his cards. Nirra and Torri exchanged knowing looks, agreeing at least on that one thing.

"Yes, Sir. For sure," the pirate collector babbled, before setting off in a rush.

"Such generosity is rare," whispered the gold elf as she watched him off, with a hint of admiration for the gnome's savior.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves," Torri replied. "Don't forget that kind, honorable people usually can't afford such acts of charity." The moon else doubted the man was the knight-in-shining-armor Nirra's tone seemed to make him.

As they turned their looks to the scene again, they noticed the gnome was done thanking his hooded savior and had run to attend to his other matters, probably his frightened family. To Nirra's pleasant surprise, and Torri's suspicious worry, the mysterious stranger was now heading towards them. Stopping only a few steps away and bowing quietly, he seemed to measure the two elves with care.

"It looks as if you were about to interfere, as well," he said, his intent hard to grasp from his neutral tone.

"Yes, although we wouldn't have been able to handle it this smoothly," Nirra replied, smiling.

But, if the gold elf didn't even think there was a need for any caution, Torri studied the man as attentively as he was observing them. The black hood was just an extension of his mage robes, which left no doubt as to what he was. The question was... what did he really want with them? He also seemed to know far more than they were aware of, which might have been a disadvantage she would need to keep in mind.

"Who is Desharik?" she asked, trying to seem casual and not show hostility -- there was no need for it yet and, sure she had heard that name before, she was curious.

"Ah, newcomers, aren't you?" The hooded man chuckled, as he answered her question with another question.

"Obviously." Torri frowned. "But there's no need for such games; you could have just answered my question."

The man let out a soft laugh as he took off his hood, uncovering his face. His skin was slightly tanned and his brown hair clean, which proved he didn't spend all of his time so perfectly concealed from the sun. The usual intelligence of the scholar could be read on his face, even though, on the right cheek, he bore the scar of an old battle -- one of odd nature, that simply melted into different shapes depending on the angle one watched it from.

"Desharik," he said after that, "is the Pirate Lord. The greatest -- and perhaps only -- authority here in Brynnlaw. Of course, it's common knowledge he runs errands for the Cowled Wizards who run Spellhold, the Asylum in the mountains. They've even invested him with the authority of having people committed. Or so I had heard."

"Would you be a Cowled Wizard, perhaps?" Nirra inquired.

Torri rolled her eyes -- too late to stop the gold elf's silly question. They had heard and seen much of them in Athkatla, what with Nirra being a mage and the Amnish law that spells should not be cast in the City, and it was obvious to Torri that this man was no such thing.

"No," he replied simply, instead of wielding another mockery, as Torri had thought he would. "I'm just a wandering mage." He paused to flash the brief trace of a smile. "And might I know what brought two beautiful elf-ladies like you to such a place?"

"How is that any of your concern?" Torri's eyes narrowed in a frown. It always irritated her when random strangers adopted such an approach with them.

"Oh... Please, don't mind her. She's very tired." Nirra giggled, trying to be as gentle as possible with Torri's feelings. "It's no big secret, really... We are just here to collect a small reward someone promised for our help."

"I see." The man nodded a little, though a new matter had caught his interest -- both his eyes were now fixed upon Torri, and one of his eyebrows raised. "I suppose your companion here is always this friendly?"

Nirra chuckled, although at first she had attempted to hold back her amusement... But the tone he had used, and the smile... It was just too much for the light-hearted gold elf. "Yes, mostly," she replied. "But I find it refreshing."

Torri scowled, gritting her teeth for a long moment and trying to stay calm. "What do you care, anyway?" she muttered.

"I don't, really." The man shrugged. "It only found it... amusing. You resemble a morose dwarf." Then, waving a dismissive hand the moon elf's way, which didn't allow her to reply anymore, he addressed Nirra once again. "My name is Selvord Knave... Most people take a liking to calling me by my last name alone, rather than my first. So help yourself to it."

"Knave," Nirra nodded. "Somehow it is, indeed, befitting. Well, my name is Nehera Erenlin, but Nirra will suffice. As for my friend, she's Toreen of Sareil... I call her Torri, but I cannot really speak for her when it comes to other people." The gold elf almost chuckled again.

"I don't care." Torri took advantage of this to slip back into the conversation. "And may I know..." -- she turned towards Knave, her attitude rather suspicious, if not almost accusing -- "...where exactly you got all those gems you used to save the gnome?"

"Oh, the gems!" Knave laughed a little. "There's plenty of them to be found out there. You know, the usual. Dragon lairs, bandits, the Underdark... I've been here and there with many a party. I seem to always end up back on my own, though, after a while."

"Why doesn't that surprise me?" Torri smirked, and hurried to change the subject, in order to steal the opportunity of a reply from him just as he had previously done to her. "At any rate, we should be going now."

"Torri... wait," Nirra called. Then, the gold elf's gaze turned back to Knave. "Sir, you seem to have had so many wonderful adventures... If it's not too much to ask, perhaps we could join you on your next one?"

"What?" Torri stopped in her tracks, having already turned to walk away. "Absolutely not. Let's go. Now."

"Well," Knave seemed to not even be aware that a certain moon elf existed. "Tag along, then. I was planning to leave Brynnlaw pretty soon."

Nirra looked at her moon elven friend, pleading with her silently. This went on for a few moments, with Torri's expression softening gradually.

"Please?" Nirra bid her, in the end.

The moon elf just sighed, and nodded. "Two conditions," she said. "One: not the Underdark, under any circumstances; and two: we're here already, so let's collect that ring first." She pointed right up along the nearest set of stairs carved in stone, where a building was marked as the _Temple of Umberlee_.

"I take it the ring is the reward you were here for?" Knave inquired.

"Yes, it is," Torri replied, continuing to eye the building impatiently.

He tilted his head. "You really didn't strike me as followers of Umberlee."

Torri just shrugged and, her patience having reached its limits, she turned away and began to ascend the stairs.

"We aren't," Nirra was, however, quick to reply, quite outraged by the perspective.

Knave nodded, and then they both rushed behind Torri, who wasn't even acting as though she were supposed to wait for them anymore.


	3. Chapter III

**Chapter Three**

Torri took a break for only a split second, before entering the temple building, Nirra and Knave in tow. The first thing to hit her was the not-so-pleasant smell of salty ocean water, and the moon elf's reflexes got the best of her when a hand rose to her nose and covered it. One second later, however, she removed the hand, when she realized she wouldn't like to offend anyone.

The smell was, by all obvious probabilities, emanating from the numerous pools, which monopolized the room's floor, leaving only small platforms of stone for people to walk along. To the left and right, there were thin wooden walls, with doorless entrances/exits to or from other similar rooms. However, they didn't need to go much further, since the priestess was standing only two pools away from the temple's main entrance.

"Such an attractive place..." the moon elf could hear Knave whisper behind her. Nirra chuckled slightly, and even Torri began a smile, given the fact that they couldn't see her doing it. Then they headed towards the half-dressed priestess of Umberlee, a rather dull woman, blond-haired and quite vulgar, overall.

"Good afternoon," Torri said, nodding courteously, and trying as best she could to keep her tone neutral, although she doubted such manners were really needed here.

"Welcome," the priestess warmly greeted them. "Would you require the services of Umberlee?" She eyed Knave for a short moment, and her already benevolent smile grew. "Or maybe those of her followers?"

Torri had to retain a small laugh, as Knave rolled his eyes. "I've nothing to say," the mage retorted. "Speak to the moon elf."

The priestess was obviously disappointed; her facial muscles relaxed a bit from the smile, and her shoulders slumped downwards with resignation when she had to turn back to Torri.

"I am here to collect a reward, if you please?" the moon elf tested the ground.

"A reward?" the priestess inquired, one of her eyebrows rising. "Of what sort?"

"I was told you would possess a ring, which the pirate Seamus the Quick-tongued left here a while ago," Torri exposed the facts, as ridiculous as the entire situation looked from her perspective.

The priestess was apparently satisfied with as much, because she didn't look suspicious, and just turned around. "I might've to look around for it some," was the only thing she said, or much rather muttered. The three awaited her return in a state of tense silence, sharing the discomfort of having to linger in there more than they had hoped would be necessary. Finally, the woman returned, carrying a plain silver ring, a circle with three ornamental elevations on one side.

"It grants its wearer resistance to mind-affecting spells," she said, sparing Nirra the casting of an identify spell once they would be out of there. "You know, Charm, Domination... things like that."

Torri nodded, gently relieving the priestess of the object. "Thank you," she said, beginning to withdraw, and once her polite reverence was finished, she turned around, to follow Nirra and Knave, who had already gained a small advantage on her.

They all took deep breaths once outside, the door closed behind them. "Remind me to never go in there alone," Knave tried a joke.

"Why?" Nirra teased. "Wasn't the priestess nice enough?"

Torri's reply was slightly different. "Like I would care," the moon elf shrugged, before turning towards her friend. "Here, Nirra... I think you'd need the ring more than I would."

"Oh," the gold elf smiled complacently, taking the jewel and slipping it on her left ring finger. "Thank you. It's nice." (That made Torri roll her eyes again, obviously in disagreement with the ring being so "nice".)

"Great," Knave ironically pouted. "That was to render her immune to my natural charm, I know it."

Nirra chuckled again, but Torri shook her head, and let out a theatrical sigh. "I wasn't aware you had any," she took a moment to sympathetically pat the human's shoulder. "But... if you say so." She nodded to him, the same motherly way, and offered a kind smile, for the effect.

The gold elf cleared her throat, trying to prevent this from growing into a larger conflict between the two. "So," she changed the subject, gracefully. "Where to now?"

Knave shrugged. "I've been to a lot of places... there aren't many I still wish to see. Why don't you two choose the destination?"

"Oh my, how very noble of you," Torri smirked, continuing to be ironical. "Hmm. You know what, Nirra? It's your turn to pick a location, since it was my idea to come here and all."

"Oh, Torri..." the gold elf sighed, suddenly melancholic and pensive. "If it's not too much to ask, I would like to visit my beloved Suldanessellar and make sure everything is going well for my people. Could we... could we go there?"

Torri's face clouded visibly, and she gritted her teeth shortly, before she replied, "Well... the route is damn close to the Underdark all along the way. But... we will go." Her words were gradually gaining firmness, and her last affirmation had been deft.

"Thank you, Torri," the gold elf's eyes fixed her with a more than simply grateful look.

"If I'm not prying into anything," Knave interfered, looking at Torri. "What's so bad about that place? I've been there countless times. True, there have been unfortunate events, but the surface is no less dangerous."

Torri shrugged, and remained silent.

"Are you alright?" the mage asked her, in the end, frowning slightly. "I'm sorry if I have said anything troubling."

"I'm fine," Torri shook her head abruptly, then regained her composure entirely. "If we do get to the Underdark, however, I won't be. But. That is a concern that serves no useful purpose right now."

"Don't worry," Knave continued his attempt at comforting her. "I know the Underdark well. Even if we do end up there, we will get out in one piece."

Torri nodded, swallowing tightly. "Let us just go," she bid.

"Ah," Nirra sighed heavily, trying to center attention back upon her, saving Torri from further grim thoughts like that. "Another trip on the water..."

"Why would that disturb you?" Knave was quick to comply with her plan, turning back towards her with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh... umm..." Nirra blushed a little. "I happen to be sea-sick."

"Really?" Knave's eyes flickered, curiously. "I mean no offence, but truly it is a sight I've never had before... An elf, sea-sick. Then what should I think of dwarves?"

"I know, I know," Nirra giggled, deciding to enjoy the short time she still had before boarding a new ship. "The world will get over it."

With that, they all began to make back for the lowest street, the one that went along the docks.


	4. Chapter IV

_This part is most definitely dedicated to _arabellaesque_, who was very nice to me about this story, which inspired me quite a bit. Thank you so much._

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**Chapter Four**

It took them quite a while to find what they were looking for, and they toured the docks fully several times, to examine whether there were multiple options. Most of the ships belonged to rude scores of pirates, and that wasn't too appealing - as much as Knave did not mind them, being used to their meanderings and other doings, the two elves were more than just reserved. In the end, it was Torri who picked the target they would approach, and it was also her who did so at once, with all due caution, but boldly nevertheless.

The man the moon elf had picked was a bit past his middle age, as far as his graying hair was concerned, but otherwise tall and muscular, his skin tanned like that of any seasoned sailor who rarely left the proximity of the sea at all. He was sitting on a crate, with his back leant against the wall behind and his eyes half-shut, although he was not asleep, since his head sometimes turned to regard this or that.

"Good afternoon," said Torri, nodding politely, even as the sailor turned his head about tranquilly and opened his eyes wider to take her in.

"An' a good day to ye, mates," he replied, said eyes darting from her to her companions, who had seen it fit to stop right behind their current leader.

Overall, he seemed safe, Torri decided. "Thank you," she replied, scouring the nearby section of the docks for the exact position of his ship. It was easy to recognize it, they all wore the same merchant-like clothing, although a good deal lighter and more adequate for going out at sea. "If I am correct, you would have arrived here with that ship?" the moon elf pointed.

"Aye, that I did," the man nodded. " 'Tis me ship, no less."

"I see," Torri neutrally continued, merely to gain a few seconds to consider the approach she should adopt. Finally, she decided for bluntness. "I realize this would have a price, but we need to get to Suldanessellar. Preferably quicker than by going back to Athkatla."

The man understood perfectly. Vessels didn't usually travel that way at all - the waters were dangerous and haunted by the fierce shark-men, who were known to scuttle ships and eat their crew without much consideration. "Yer lucky," he replied. "Me ship happens to be headed that way e'sactly."

"Really?" Torri's eyebrow rose curiously.

"Aye," the man nodded again. "We're supplyin' yon encampment the elves set up along the coast. There's some war o' sorts." He shrugged. Obviously, his only concern was the sale of his goods, and it didn't really matter who bought them as long as he got his money.

"Must be for this new war with the drow," Nirra interfered, a bit concerned. Torri and her had heard reports lately, but nothing conclusive, and that was truly the reason why she had chosen to go to Suldanessellar. "But why would my kind need you to supply them, captain?"

"They be blasted secretive, them elves," the sailor shrugged once again. "An' as long as they're buying me stuff, it don't matter much."

"Then it is settled?" Torri pressed, before Nirra could say anything more. "Tell us your price, so that we may be through with this at once."

"There ain't a price," the captain waved a reconciliatory hand, seeming to be in a good mood. "Smugglin's profitable business, and yer kind might look at me an' my men with some less suspicion if we deliver the two o' you an' yer friend. They'd be sparin' me alotta trouble with keepin' them men in line all the time."

Torri almost smirked; she doubted that would be the case, but as long as the captain thought so, who was she to disagree, especially if it fitted her own plans just perfectly?

"Thank you, then," the moon elf most graciously reverenced halfway. "When does the ship leave, may I ask?"

"She sets for the sea at dawn," the smuggler answered, taking a couple of glances to his sides, along the dockside. "Must load at night, or them damned pirates will start meddlin' with my stuff."

That sounded reasonable. It was, perhaps, a bit more to wait than they had expected, but this was too convenient to decline and start looking anew. "We will be there indubitably," the moon elf concluded the deal.

"Suit yerselves," came the careless reply. "I be Captain Belvert if ye'll have need to ask 'round for me."

The proper introductions were exchanged within the next few moments, for courtesy's sake, and then the trio began to depart, wandering the dockside aimlessly. The waters were calm, although not what one would call "clean", not so close to shore. Truly, it seemed as if nothing could go wrong. And yet, Torri's indefinite feeling, the one bottling up somewhere deep inside, was bound to say otherwise. The moon elf was rarely at ease anymore, these days.

"Torri, are you alright?" Nirra gently broke the line of her thoughts.

"Yes, yes, don't worry about me," she hurried to nod and flash a façade smile.

"Good," her friend smiled in return. "You looked troubled."

"So," Knave was quick to change the subject, as it was easier for him to do so than any of them, at present. "What are we to do now, with all this spare time on our hands?"

"I should admit we have little knowledge of this place," Torri conceded, cautiously.

The mage chuckled. "Surely I wouldn't have guessed that," he said, shaking his head in order to accentuate the sarcasm. "I'd suggest the local tavern... the Vulgar Monkey."

"A brilliant name," Torri remarked, rolling her eyes. "I truly wonder who came up with it. I do."

"A tavern?" Nirra was quick to express her concern and reluctance. "Those places are bad enough in more civilized settlements... I wouldn't want to know what this one looks like..."

"Nothing that out of line," Knave assured her. "Or I wouldn't have suggested this."

"Fine..." the gold elf sighed, once she made sure Torri was approving as well.

Once that was settled, Knave took the lead from Torri, his steps sure and unfaltering. Obviously, the mage had been here several times and knew his way around well.

"You know," Nirra brought something up with Torri, after a few moments of silence. "This is indeed troubling. Why would my people need supplies from humans, indeed, when Suldanessellar is so close?"

"I..." Torri stopped. A cloud of thought loomed over her for a few moments, but then, with a heavy sigh, she chased it away. "I wouldn't know, Nirra. I'm sure they will explain as soon as we arrive."

With that, they continued behind their new friend, the human mage, slightly gloomier, and each struggling to sort through her own worries and concerns. Naturally, none took note of the fact that Knave, also, had his, nor of how intently he had been listening to the last exchange of words.


	5. Chapter V

**Chapter Five**

The tavern was, as predictable, noisy and crowded; with the afternoon coming close to an end, both inhabitants and visitors of the island had sought refuge there, to drown their exhaustion or worries in alcohol. It was quite difficult for the elves to understand these rudimentary humans, their total lack of education, or even consideration in that respect. But this was no news – always had racial differences functioned this way.

"I'm sure we're going to enjoy being here immensely," Torri rolled her eyes, the sarcasm in her tone obvious, even as she was leaning against the wall. The table was dirty, the wood ancient and eroded by time's passing, and she had no desire whatsoever to sit upon that sorry excuse for a chair.

Nirra had been less pretentious and had just taken Knave's example. The human and the gold elf were seated, and trying to keep a low profile, much unlike the more ominous moon elf with her arms crossed on her chest and a permanent scowl on her face. The two looked at the latter, slightly disapproving of her stubbornness.

"Good job attracting all attention," Knave congratulated her, ironically, and even clapped once, to enhance the effects of his words.

"Thank you," Torri smirked, raising her head even higher, defiantly.

The argument would have, perhaps, continued, but they were distracted by a fourth figure, who had suddenly decided he should come and sit at their table. "Heya, friends," this new man smiled warmly to the three of them. His common figure was far too benevolent for any of their liking, except Nirra's, perhaps, but even the gold elf was a bit reserved and regarded him suspiciously.

"Saemon Havarian," Knave greeted the man without making too much of an effort to hide his contempt, one of his eyebrows already rising.

"Good to see you haven't forgotten me," the man bowed his head, still irritatingly docile and friendly.

"Mhm," Knave sighed theatrically. "Really, Havarian. Whatever it is you want, I'm sure I can't provide it."

"Oh!" the man seemed outraged, but he was so fake that even the most inexperienced and naive of people would have realized he was feigning it. "I assure you, I don't want anything. Except, that is, to inquire about you, old friend."

"I wasn't aware we were that close," Knave remarked. "But fine. I'm doing great, actually."

The mage's all-too-blatant disregard for courtesy seemed to baffle Saemon for a few moments, but then his smile came back, even friendlier, if that was possible. "It's good to hear that. I'm not doing that well," he gave the answer that Knave had more than hinted he did not require, by not asking the question in the first place.

The mage silently picked up his glass of wine and took his time with sipping from it, as if he was at home, and very comfortable, at that. "Last I heard you had stolen Desharik's ship. The whole island was tumultuous for a while, because of that. I'm surprised you're back."

"That was a mere misunderstanding," the man cautiously replied, that irritating attitude not fading in the least, the one of serviceable dog. "I explained it all to Desharik, and we've sorted things out."

Knave took a few moments, glancing to the puzzled and reserved Nirra, and to the all-knowing Torri, before regarding Havarian again, something close to pity in his attitude, on this last act. "Ah, I see," he nodded. "You groveled. And probably made promises which you will not be able to keep."

"Of course not," Saemon shook his head, that glint of fake outrage showing again. "That reminds me... wouldn't you be interested in doing some busi-"

Knave cut him short at once with a simple gesture. "I **don't **want to hear it, Havarian." His words had been firm enough, and apparently the other man knew the mage well, since he realized at once how futile it was to press on.

"I was just holding out a hand to an old friend," he shrugged. "But if you don't want it, that's fine with me."

He somehow was... too eager to speak, by Torri's standards. The moon elf had already decided she liked this new one even less than she did the ever-frustrating Knave himself. "Excuse me," she interfered, icily. "Is there any specific business you have with any of us? We were discussing something rather important."

"No, no, not at all," the human shook his head, doing his best at rubbing her right side, unaware, of course, that Torri didn't seem to have one. "I had just missed my old friend here, that's all."

"I see," the moon elf continued, the same way.

"She's so monopolizing sometimes, mind you," Knave sighed, as if Havarian was supposed to know how those things went. Then, he turned towards Torri. "My dear... if you would only give me a moment." Knave smirked to her triumphantly even as she remained speechless in front of that, blinking.

The mage had guessed correctly. The moon elf was not one to cause scenes in public, especially in front of people she held in such disregard as those surrounding them at present. She considered herself too far above them, intellectually speaking, to go that low. That was why the only thing she did was aim a most hateful and outraged glare at the mage, a clear promise of things to come.

"Thank you," Knave continued, and turned back to Havarian, stopping midway for a moment, to wink at a visibly amused Nirra. "So tell me, 'good friend', what happened, so that you've decided you should come back here and talk to Desharik."

Saemon blanched, for only a moment, but then his smile returned. Ever persistent, wasn't he? "Asides from my morals, of course," he began testily, "there was the small event of... Desharik's ship sinking. My Dimension Door spell took me here, I am afraid."

"Sinking?" Knave did his best to look more interested than ironical. "Really? And how did it sink, exactly?"

"The sahuagin," the man warily formulated a gloomy reply, as shortly as possible. "The adventurers that helped me... acquire the ship wanted to go to Suldanessellar, so I was forced to sail that way, in exchange for their help."

"I can imagine," Knave nodded, doing his best to look serious and trusting, although he was certain the events had occurred quite differently. "I'm sure they pressed on until you accepted this offer."

"Most certainly," Havarian nodded, then hurried to stand up. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have business to conduct with my friend there." He saluted courteously, and then headed towards the 'friend', a hostile and displeased-looking pirate, surely one of Desharik's own men.

Knave's every trace of amusement faded in a matter of seconds. "I'm sorry," he eyed Nirra, apologetically. "I would have tried to find out more, but he fled too quickly."

"No one would have manged to, no worries," a bitter gold elf answered him. After a few moments of thought, Nirra's smile returned, bit by bit. "We'll be there soon, anyway, and all will be explained."

"Most certainly," Torri was quick to step in, leaning forward and placing her elbows on the table. Her head menacingly turned, until she was facing Knave. "And now about earlier..." She smiled to him, most sweetly, although it was obviously just a mask for her displeasure, and a threat. "I would appreciate it if you never did anything like that again."

The mage shrugged, and defied her with a smirk of his own. "I wouldn't have done it in the first place, if I had thought you'd approve," he retorted, quite calmly.

Torri rolled her eyes. "I guess everyone is allowed to have dreams, then," she almost spat the words, her calm too intense, too perfect to be anything else but a curtain covering the storm beyond. She rose. "Now, if you will excuse me, I will be going out for a walk."

"I wouldn't advise that," Knave noted, warily, discarding their last small feud immediately. "Brynnlaw is not exactly the safest of places, you know?"

"The risks will be my own," Torri replied, sternly, then spun on her heels and marched off.

"Don't worry," Nirra smiled to the mage, reassuringly. "She is a capable fighter. She can take care of herself."

"I wasn't worried," Knave shrugged. "In fact, what's currently on my mind is the little bit we've found out from Havarian. Recent sahuagin activity is no good sign. It means they might still be in the area, and we have to travel that way soon."

"True," Nirra's face clouded. "If... if you think we should renounce this trip, just tell me so, please."

The human mage stopped for a second, to offer her a warm smile, full of a kindness one would have hardly thought him to be capable of. "It's quite alright," he replied. "I'm sure we'll make it through one way or another." Somehow, he seemed to perfectly understand why Nirra so wished to see her homeland again, and soon, even more so than Torri understood. The gold elf gave him a grateful nod.

Postponing the time for such concerns, they spent the rest of the evening conversing on different light topics, and when they were ready to withdraw, Torri hadn't yet returned. After a small debate, they commonly agreed that she could, indeed, take care of herself, and just rented a couple of rooms and went to sleep.


	6. Chapter VI

**Chapter Six**

Torri thought of this as the perfect opportunity for her to explore the island of Brynnlaw more thoroughly. At first, the cautious moon elf kept to those streets of the town that she had already visited on previous occasions. A smirk came to her lips when she passed by the Temple of Umberlee, and recalled certain occurrences that had just recently taken place inside. But soon, she abated from that course, and ascended to the less populated area nearer to the rocks upon which the asylum was built. She still couldn't picture exactly what Spellhold was, but the mere sight of its darkened looming form was troubling enough.

Strangely, the night wasn't black in Brynnlaw, but rather... violet, turning the landscape into somewhat of a misty dreamworld. The few clouds present had all bulked to one side, leaving the rest of the sky filed with twinkling stars, small spots of light stamping an empty background. The moon, which Torri's people cherished so, seemed veiled in mists at that particular moment, still halfway through towards the highest point it could reach. Its silvery light fell through the curtain of purples and illuminated the tops of the simple stone houses, crushed against each other in tight formations.

Whose steps was she following? Torri found the question in her mind without having consciously formulated it. Indeed, what had urged her to come out and walk, and why this way?

It was common for the moon elves to rely upon certain feelings, to be able to almost predict a small part of the future, since they were always so concerned with it. Torri wasn't exactly skilled in that aspect, with her having chosen to be a fightress, rather than a mage or cleric, but sometimes her unclear premonitions proved to have some base. Right now, she felt something weighing heavily somewhere above her, above them.

The road they were on had been recently traveled by another group... one of its members was especially significant, but Torri was unable to tell more than that from the simple residues of their presence. All she knew was that this course drew her, like light draws the moths, but even that was halfway explainable, while the pulling of her heart was not.

They were following someone. They were MEANT to follow someone.

Torri believed in destiny with every fiber of her being and she was simply unable to let go of the thought. It kept coming back to her, differently formulated each time, true, but still the same idea.

She pondered going back, to tell Nirra and Knave about it – surely together they would be able to figure something out. But no, she realized how unlikely it was for her two companions to make anything else of this than, perhaps, that she needed rest, and urgently. Torri sighed, and kept walking, not really noticing that every step took her closer to Spellhold.

--

The arrival of morning filtered the world yet again, and found an exhausted, but slightly less worried Torri walking along the docks, behind Knave and Nirra. The moon elf's steps were almost mechanical, fueled by willpower alone. She had returned to the Vulgar Monkey too late – or early – to get any sleep, and it showed. Her two companions apparently knew better than to bother her for anything – the moon elf wasn't too cheerful on a regular basis, anyway, and given her current state, any attempt at communication or interaction would have only incurred her wrath.

They reached the spot of the other day's conversation with Captain Belvert in short order, and found that the man was there all the same, occupying his crate and staring out at the horizon, whose line was beginning to glow in anticipation of the sun's imminent appearance. "Good mornin'," he greeted the three with the beginning of a smile. "I'm afraid you're early... ship ain't leavin' for the next hour or so, 'till they give us permission."

Knave was the one to respond, with a formal nod, before the members of their small group regarded each other questioningly. "What?" Torri was quick to snap as soon as eyes fell upon her. She shook her head with frustration. Then, stepping by Nirra and Knave, she neared the captain herself. "Can we board the ship and wait there?" she asked.

"Aye, suit yerselves," the sailor replied, shrugging.

"That's where I'll be," the moon elf thought it would be required of her to announce that to her companions. "At least I'll be able to get some sleep there."

"Uhh..." Nirra babbled for a short moment, for obvious reasons. "I... think I'll wait the two hours on shore."

That mention seemed to cheer Torri up a bit – the next shake of her head was much rather amused than anything else. "See you there, then," she managed a smile.

"Oh, poor me!" Knave, in his usual good mood, lamented theatrically. "Here I am, having to choose between two equally beautiful ladies..." - he took his small break in order to chuckle, eyeing Torri, before he could add, "...one of which looks especially irritated right now."

"Just go with Nirra," the moon elf dismissed him, begrudgingly rolling her eyes. "Trust me, you'd be doing both me and you a favor."

"So cruel of you, my lady!" Knave took his amused exaggeration to even higher a peak, hardly able to contain laughter anymore. "Fine, then," he even sniffed, "I will keep company to those who appreciate it."

"Tolerate, maybe," Torri smirked wryly. "Appreciate would probably mean that nice priestess back at the Temple."

With that, she performed a most courteous reverence, and spun on her feet, heading for the ship before the mage could reply to her.

"Ah," he muttered, trying to seem affected in a highly childish manner. "She got me on that one. But next time, I'll show her." With that, he cleared his throat, recovering the full extent of his seriousness, and turned to Nirra. "So, where to?"

"I don't know," the gold elf ended her lively fit of laughter. "We can just walk aimlessly, I suppose."

"True. We could, however, see if we can find out some more about the events that concern you so." The mage was dead serious this time, almost somber. Nirra blinked for a moment, taken by surprise, but he began to walk off and she followed.


	7. Chapter VII

**Chapter Seven**

Torri was some place dark... not the comforting and enveloping darkness of the night, pointed by the silver above, but a thick pitch, of the kind that would have rendered a human completely blind. Shadowed figures surrounded her; their faces indefinite, for she had been robbed of part of her sight, but none too friendly, that much was certain. They spoke harshly, in a language she could only understand partially, a language which she did not **want **to understand.

The moon elf was gravely wounded, less physically, for the pain had only been passing, but morally scarred for eternity. Drow torture chambers were not a pleasant memory – in fact, they never should have been a memory at all. Torri knew now, and she would not have wished it upon anyone, not even her mortal enemies, the drow themselves, to go through one. But it was late, too late for her, and such realizations did not help her in her current position; they did nothing but increase her fear, and choke all ration, slowly forcing her into madness.

On her left side, she felt the emptiness of the precipice. It was common knowledge that her heart was going to be offered to whatever dwelled within, in exchange for who could tell what kind of favor. Could this be happening? Could she allow this to happen?

Fear shook Torri abruptly and uncontrollably, it extended from that hidden corner of inner self, and brushed over the rest of her conscious being. For a moment, she thought of simply pushing herself over the edge, before they were done preparing for the ritual. At least she would die knowing that she had been no part of the drow's evil schemes.

Die? A mere term, too hollow and small to contain the full extents of this situation. So this was the end. This was how it felt, to be so close to the edge, both physically and spiritually, that your life drifted before you, centuries reduced to the duration of mere moments, and all sense of actual time was lost, unimportant.

But the moon elf did not wish to die. This was not the end she had imagined, on the few occasions she had been more aware that such a moment had to come, inevitably. It was a tremendous effort, that of gathering all bits of your spirit that were still sane, all remainders of ration and organized thought, and once more put them at work altogether, when you thought the effort was vain, when you saw no glimmer of hope coming from anything you could possibly imagine.

They had made a mistake, however, and though most likely a minor one, of no consequence to the general turn of events, she had to try. They had removed her chains before the sacrifice was truly ready to begin. Crossing the only obstacle, that of the immense gathering of weariness, the remembrance of pain still present in every living fiber of her body, Torri rose; she jumped to her feet, with the desperate quickness of one who has run out of time for now and forever.

She grabbed the nearest flail, disregarding the fact that its 'support' was not a weapon rack, but a living person, a drow priestess, even, and she pulled at it, she clung and tugged fiercely. The advantage of a surprise was hers, as well as that of her would-be sacrificers having disregarded and underestimated the will to live that anyone seemed to suddenly find on the verge of the abyss. One step away from the unknown, life tended to gain an inestimable value, one that Torri could clearly see right now, one that was enough to drive her, to fuel and provide her with as much energy as she needed to escape.

She spun and swung, blindly, she received a couple of hits, which seemed to be falling upon stone, or upon someone else's body. Inside her, there were thoughts and strength for only one thing – to break free. Even the pain was unimportant. Even those that her chaotic ordeal threw into the same precipice they had prepared for her held no meaning.

And finally, there was an opening. They stepped back from this unnatural burst of desire, from this rampaging blind attack of one who simply could not cope with her fate. Without hesitation, she ran. She threw the mace off and pulled away with such force that even the many hands attempting to grab her, stop her, hold her were rendered useless.

They pursued, but her drive was stronger, her motivation more solid, and she prevailed. Finally, there was only silence beside her own gradually faltering steps and water dripping somewhere in the background. And there was exhaustion, and the thud of her knees against stone, then that of her chest. And there was blackness.

Voices awoke her; yet another unknown language. But these weren't hostile... more rather, apprehensive, curious... worried? No... wait. This last voice didn't belong here. It had spoken common and it was part of some very distant future, which she had every reason to be in right now.

Torri opened her eyes and pulled herself up in only an abrupt instant, her breathing slightly accelerated, and fear engraved into her beautiful elven features. "What..." she began, weakly, her eyes adrift along the ship she remembered to have boarded a little while ago. She had lied down in a corner of the deck and fallen asleep. She steadied herself.

"Are you a'ight, Miss... Toreen, as I recall?" the captain inquired, worriedly, looking down on her from his full height. "Your rest was uneasy."

Torri nodded, before recomposing enough of her visage and inner self to be able to word a reply. "Nothing but a nightmare," she forced the most difficult of smiles ever. "Thank you for your concern."

"We're 'bout to leave," the sailor switched subjects. "An' your two friends're late."

"Nirra is always a little late," Torri nodded, rather absently, as she was standing up. She was on her feet in a matter of seconds.

"They'd do well an' hurry," the man grunted. "I canna keep them men o' mine in line much longer."

"I'm sure they will arrive, if you just give them a few more mo-"

Torri was cut short by the burst of two ellipsoidal forms of bluish light and smoke, which were quick to appear at their right, out of pure nowhere. Soon, the all too familiar forms of Nirra and Knave materialized in a flash, while the rings began to fade away all around them, leaving them veiled in glitter and mist, which were also quick to dissipate.

"We apologize for the delay, captain," Knave nodded in a highly conciliatory fashion. The sailor shrugged, sighing out his relief, and then beginning to whistle as he departed, making for his spot, from where he could direct his men to raise the anchor.

"A Dimension Door spell," Torri ironically simulated appreciation. "How brilliant!" She was still highly troubled, but had decided to show no sign of it at all. "It did save Nirra from being completely late again."

"I apologize," Nirra reverenced, "oh-so-always-on-time Torri the Magnificent."

"He's rubbing off on you," Torri blinked, surprisedly glancing from her gold elven friend to the human mage and back. For a few moments, there was silence, with Nirra's cheeks almost unnoticeably flushing a pale shade of pink.

"At any rate," Knave finally interrupted that, in the end. "There might have been a reason why we were late, and you could have asked. But I suppose you prefer to mock others, even those who mean you well."

He was serious, too serious, but Torri didn't take note of it and raised an eyebrow. "Oh, really? What was that, Nirra?" She turned towards her gold elven companion, smirking. "Is our mage here just another man whose heart you've broken?"

Nirra's blush deepened, and she tried to speak, but her lips only twitched, before she decided not to say anything, and just looked away.

"I do not number myself among the victims of her pleasant company," Knave replied, beginning to amuse himself once again, or so it would have appeared. "But I do seem to be the poor innocent victim of your exceedingly charming attitude. Truly astounding. Where exactly have you learned to be so nice to others?"

Torri's visage clouded, and she shot the human a sharp glare. "Mock me all you wish, mage," she replied dryly. "I am not here to please anyone."

Knave shrugged. "Whatever," he replied, turning to tend to Nirra. "You've fallen unusually silent. Are you certain everything is fine?"

The gold elf nodded, and was just preparing to say something, too, when suddenly the ship swung about briefly, then over to the other side, as it was finally detaching from the docks, and struggling to recover the balance that this departure's beginning had deprived it of. Nirra paled slowly but visibly so, as the swinging continued, and the vessel caught speed.

"There she goes again," Torri muttered.

"I'm sure that helped her a lot," Knave rolled his eyes, as he proceeded to offering Nirra one of his arms, for support. "Here, we should probably seat you somewhere." He pointed to a bunch of crates, solidly fixed with ropes hammered to the deck. "There would be perfect."

The gold elf nodded weakly, and they set foot, at an adequately slow pace. Torri was left behind, shaking her head. "There you go," she heard Knave say once he and Nirra were seated. "Feeling better?" – "Yes, a little," came an almost choked reply.

The moon elf shrugged, and turned her back on them, walking to the railing, to settle against it and watch the horizon, and the top of the sun rising from behind the island. Truly, it was a majestic sight, but one that blinded her, so soon enough her eyes looked downwards, and resigned with simply watching the waves struggle with each other continually... endlessly. Just like the many thoughts in her head.


	8. Chapter VIII

**Chapter Eight**

Knave looked out, towards where the sea water seemed to meet the sky, forming a blurry line of different shades of blue and green. Few clouds were present right above them, but the menacing mass of thick storm clouds to the right threatened to close in on them quickly, since that was where the winds were blowing from. He could see sudden flashes traversing that mass, drawing lines of white that quickly faded away again – lightning in the distance.

The mage was troubled, and not only because of the likely possibility of that storm. He was leaning against a couple of crates piled up along others alike, his arms crossed on his chest and his expression grim. From time to time, he would glance at the gold elf cradled between the wooden cubes and wrapped up in a blanket, somewhere between actual sleep and daydreaming.

It was around the middle of their second day at sea, and Nirra was, as expected, not feeling well at all. Of course, she had gotten used to this state already, and it only made her drowsy and slightly less full of life than she usually presented herself. However, the mage had faithfully stayed by her side most of the time, tending to whatever needs she might have had – not that many, in truth.

As for Torri, the moon elf was finally asleep, after the exhaustion had grown into too much for her to handle. She had kept her lack of sleep a secret from Nirra, in order not to trouble her more than was needed; Knave had attempted to convince her to rest a couple of times before that, but Torri had mentioned 'memories coming back'. The mage had been curious, and still was, but she would say no more and he didn't wish to trouble the gold elf with it either. However, the atmosphere between the three of them was, overall, either tense or distant. All had their own worries and insecurities which they weren't yet ready to share; the only difference was that Torri allowed them to torment her, while the other two had merely postponed theirs until their importance made it necessary that they should be revealed.

"Think that storm will catch up?" Nirra asked, frowning though her eyes were still closed, a glint of worry managing to sneak beyond the sleepiness she was using as a mask.

"It might," Knave gave her a brief glance. "The captain would know better."

Silence reigned for a few moments, with the human mage shifting his weight constantly, insecure and undecided. Finally, he seemed to pick something from the list of things he could say at that point. "I was curious..." he began testily. When Nirra opened her eyes and smiled, bidding him to continue, his tone grew firmer. "You keep referring to Suldanessellar as 'your home', and to its inhabitants as 'your people'. I thought it was a mainly wood elven settlement, and you don't look..."

Nirra interrupted him, with a small gesture and a nod. "I am of the Ar'Tel'Quessir," she replied. "A gold elf. And Suldanessellar is, indeed, wood elven, at least in origin. In fact, it serves as a meeting place for many wandering elves, or emissaries of the different tribes. However, I grew up in Suldanessellar, which makes it my home, indeed, and its inhabitants my people, regardless of what they are."

"That's a strange approach for one of your kind," Knave mused, careful not to cross any lines or look like he was offending her. Generally, gold elves were proud and thought themselves superior, since they had supposedly been chosen to guard the old ways of the elven kind.

"I know," she accepted, with a light shrug. "It took Torri a few years to get used to this. I don't expect you to just cope with it from the start. I thought you would ask, sooner or later."

The mage nodded. "Curiosity tends to be an essential trait for a mage," he chuckled. "However, if I am prying into anything, you may tell me so."

"You aren't," Nirra smiled warmly, comfortingly. "I understand, being a mage myself, although the elven approach is slightly different on the topic."

"Tell me, then," Knave went pensive again. "What is it, exactly, that you two are doing wandering the Realms together?"

"I'm not sure, to tell the truth," Nirra laughed lightly. "For 'together', that's quite simple. Torri and I go far back, about 30 years ago. A lot, even for elves, especially because we would spend each day together infallibly." She paused a little, before continuing, to smile upon remembering the oddity that had occurred between them – somehow, Torri had taken on aspects that would have been expected to appear in a gold elf, and Nirra had assumed some moon elven traits. Others had remained as they should have been. "But why exactly it is that we're traveling," she continued, "I couldn't tell. Originally, I just followed my friend, because I did not want to part. Moon elves are known for their restlessness and love of adventure. My kind isn't like that, but I've adapted, because I could no longer imagine living away from my friend."

"It is refreshing to see such strong bonds still form between the sentient," Knave continued reasoning. "There is little friendship to be found in the world nowadays, even less than love."

"How about you?" the gold elf inquired. "What brought you to this life?"

"I'm afraid my story is less unusual than yours," he replied, a strange glimmer in his eyes for a moment. "I merely walked in my father's wake. My mother tried to stop me, afraid that I would have the same fate... you see, that was where he died – adventuring." Knave shrugged; he was obviously at peace and resigned with the fact, and had been so for a long while. "I eventually ran from home to join a band of already seasoned adventurers."

"It would appear that you are the seasoned one now," Nirra pointed out.

"I've seen many things," he admitted, although a bit of reluctance from his part was visible, should he be required to go more in-depth on the subject.

They were interrupted from furthering their discussion, however, by Captain Belvert, who had just arrived at their side and had politely cleared his throat, preferring that to any other type of interruption. "You might've seen there's a storm comin'," he warned. "It'll be catchin' us in no time, so you'd better be prepared."

"We've noticed, but were uncertain whether we would be able to elude it," Knave nodded, grateful that he had been made aware of the facts. "Thank you for warning us."

"Tis nay but a small one," the sailor assured him. "We'll make it outta its grasp jus' fine." With that, the man departed, and went to prepare his men with proper instructions.

"That's good news," Knave reasoned, turning back to Nirra. "If the captain wasn't worried about the storm, then surely it's nothing important."

Nirra nodded, even as both of them were once more looking at the gathering of clouds, now considerably closer to them and still coming in fast, the water itself darkening below.

----------

Torri's wasn't exactly sleep, as one would normally define it. The moon elf dared not lose herself from the world completely, even for a few moments, and instead had chosen to deceive her weariness with this combination of awareness and unconsciousness – she was ready, however, to jump to her feet in an instant, should the need arise.

She hadn't mentioned any of her strange feelings and worries to the others – she saw no reason to encumber them, especially Nirra, who wasn't feeling well, in such a way. Her gold elven friend knew of the dream that haunted her from time to time; it was nothing more than a recollection of something that had happened long ago. Oddly enough, the conscious moon elf could not recall much of it; somehow, it was as if the entire experience had indeed been nothing but a distant dream she was forgetting gradually, but some scars on her body begged to differ. However, whenever the memory came to weigh upon her sleep, Torri was forced to live through it all, again and again, as if she were there once more. Lately, the intervals between the times the dream came back had grown.

The moon elf sighed, and begrudgingly rolled over to her other side, in order to get rid of the numbness in the arm she had been heaving upon so far. A series of familiar stinging erupted all along her every muscle, but she didn't pay attention to such a trivial sensation. There was a change in the air, slipping closer slowly, but there nonetheless. Torri was perfectly able to recognize the approach of a storm.

She sat up, and looked over at the sky, spotting the clouds at once; the crew didn't look particularly distressed, and she reasoned it wasn't anything severe. Groaning with displeasure, she lay back down, pulling the blanket tightly around her and closing her eyes once more.

Cursed drow. They all deserved to die.


	9. Chapter IX

**Chapter Nine**

The storm had broken out so suddenly that despite the fact that she had been expecting it, Torri was taken by surprise, and scrambled to her feet at once when thunder roared above, her heart leaping. She took a moment to slow her accelerated breath and remember where exactly she was and what exactly was happening.

The sky all around them had darkened visibly, covered by a heavy lid of storm clouds, lightning raged here and there and the moon elf wondered how long it would be before one struck the ship. Realizing she truly did not want to know, she concentrated on keeping her balance, and not being swept right off the deck and dragged into the raging ocean by the wave that had decided to sweep across the vessel. Her eyes quickly darted off towards the crates; the line of ropes tying them in place had been doubled and the metal bars in some places reinforced – Nirra and Knave, her true interest, were just struggling to their feet, the latter coughing, obviously caught unaware by the water.

Rain finally began to fall down all around, in the form of huge heavy drops, and soon there was no other sound than the clamor of water everywhere, both around and below. A soaked Torri headed over for her two companions, who were in no better a state, glaring at a crate that swung to the side, threatening to fall right onto them. However, it had been effectively tied down atop the pile and the ropes held steadfast, halting the move before it could even begin to harm anyone.

"We should find something else to hold on to!" Torri shouted, aggravated, in order for her words to pierce the roaring of the storm all around them and reach the others' ears. "Those crates are unstable!"

"They're fine!" Knave replied the same way, handing her one of the ropes nearby, which the moon elf eagerly grabbed, just as she was beginning to lose the ground under the pressure of a new sweeping wave. The mage then hurried to hold on to something himself, his other arm wrapping about Nirra's shoulders and pulling her close to him, for the fragile gold elf wasn't much good resisting the might of the waters.

The highest crate swung again, frighteningly so, and in one instant that none would have been able to anticipate, its rope gave in, and the massive object came down hard, crashing to splinters right between the three. The impact threw them all aback, and they lost their grip almost at the same time, when a new wave hurried to help with eroding their already fragile position.

Torri couldn't possibly concentrate on anything else but her own safety at that chaotic moment, as she saw herself thrown down, she felt her body rolling or drifting towards the taffrail. Her fingers clawed at the solid deck below, water brushing over her, and with her. The attempt was futile, and it earned her no more than a few seconds, before the pulling continued, and she was swept further. Finally, the rail was her salvation, her hands gripped the wooden bars fiercely, and her entire body pressed against it, caught between this last obstacle and the strength of the wave going past her.

In the end, the moon elf was safe again, and a tremendous effort brought her back to her feet. Her armor felt heavier than ever, her hair clung to her face, her sight was clouded and her eyes stung from the salty waters that had invaded them. Still, her condition was stable, and with the little perception she still had left, she searched for Nirra.

She located Knave almost instantly, only a few feet away from her, further along the taffrail. The distressed mage bore the gravest of expressions, even as he blankly stared at the waters below, at their constant struggle. The moon elf's worries increased sizeably, her heart beating faster at once.

"Where's Nirra?" Torri shouted to the human, then coughed hastily, and could ask no more.

Knave took a few moments to acknowledge that she was there, before he raised a shaking hand, affording to hold on with just his other, to point out at sea, then downwards. His entire attitude was that of a shocked man, and he wasn't even blinking; he just swallowed tightly. It was all more than enough for Torri to guess.

The moon elf blanched in a matter of a small moment, her already ivory-white skin growing to be as that of a recently deceased, before she joined the mage in his staring at the spot he had last seen Nirra, a place the ship was departing from with every passing second. Gritting her teeth and blinking back tears, Torri gripped the taffrail tighter, almost as if she was trying to strangle a living thing, almost as if she had found the guilty one for this new and stunning discovery. "No..." her lips moved to shape out, although the sound was swallowed by the general tumult.

Another flash of lightning, a couple of more frozen moments in time, and Knave's last sight of Torri was the expression of a mad woman, harboring a crazed smirk, then a few elven words reached his ears, and the moon elf was off, diving into the unknown right behind her friend.

Knave cursed aloud, watching the tiny form disappear within the mass of water, most likely never to return again. This new shock rendered him oblivious to the fact that he was supposed to hold on to something, and even as he spun about, for a reason he had yet to formulate, a third wave hit him fully and threw him right behind his two former companions. The way his ears perceived the lid of water covering them almost sounded like a mighty fit of laughter, the sea amusing itself with the three puny beings that had been its toll.

----------

Waking up was a difficult process for Nirra with her head aching the way it did and her lungs feeling as heavy as they did. Nevertheless, the gold elf forced her eyes open, clenched her fists, gritted her teeth, bit her tongue without caring about it, and was finally sitting up. After the coughing fit was gone and the water out of her lungs, she shook her poor head slowly, to ease the pressure a little, and when it seemed to work she warily took in her surroundings.

Above her was a neat bluish surface, that almost looked like the sky, but Nirra guessed it to be water immediately. The floor below her was solid, made of solid stone apparently, and she could spot Knave, Torri and a few of the sailors around her. Some were conscious, like her, and some where not, Knave among the former, Torri with the latter.

The gold elf looked at the mage, who had hugged his knees close to him and laid his chin upon that support. He was silent and calm, almost like a monk in the process of meditation. However, when Nirra looked at him, he smiled vaguely, offering the little reassurance he could still shape out.

"Where..." - the gold elf had to stop, coughing out some more water. "Where are we?" She scoured further away in all four directions, her eyes meeting the solid masses of four walls, out of which the last had a single arched door, currently closed.

"The City of Caverns, they call it," Knave shrugged. "A sahuagin settlement, nonetheless."

Nirra gasped, suddenly troubled beyond return. "All I remember is being swept off into the water..." she stated, confusedly.

"The few of us you see here," Knave pointed at the rest, "were unlucky enough to share your fate." He paused, to rub his chin thoughtfully. "Well, except Torri." His eyes flashed with disapproval. "The fool jumped in to go find you or something."

"She did?" Nirra seemed taken aback by the news. "I... I may be selfish for saying this, but it makes me feel good in... in this time of need."

Knave shrugged again, grimly. "They're just now deciding what to do with us. They were going to eat us, but one of the men had a bottle of poison, or something of the kind, which he broke inside one of the sahuagin's mouths. What's certain is that the creature fell dead shortly after eating him, and they've decided not to eat the rest of us."

"Did they say anything that you could understand?" Nirra asked, swallowing tightly and attempting to contain her fear.

A groan, coming from Torri, interrupted them for the moment, and the moon elf threw herself halfway up, coughing out some water. Then, limply, she fell back to the floor and was unconscious again.

"She'll be fine," a gesture from Knave stopped Nirra from going to check. The mage was much closer, and he could see Torri's chest rise and fall with her breathing.

Nirra nodded, although her eyes didn't leave the side of her old friend for a long while, thoughtful through it all. Finally, she looked back at the only door. "So?" she reminded the mage of her question.

"They did talk to us briefly," Knave confirmed her suspicions. "Mostly just to mock us. They did tell us that the ship had been left alone, though. They weren't planning to attack, but since we so conveniently fell into the waters by ourselves..."

He let the phrase hanging, since Nirra could very well continue the reasoning for herself. "I see," the gold elf nodded. "There is still a chance for us, I think. Let's just hope that whatever it is they decide, that won't be to kill us on the spot. Maybe we can escape, if they give us time."

Knave's expression told her clearly that the mage agreed fully. "They could sacrifice us to whatever gods they worship," he made a point. "But I doubt such 'ugly and awkward creatures' like us would please them, so we're safe."

Despite the dire situation, they both found it hard not to chuckle.


	10. Chapter X

**Chapter Ten**

"Poison," Torri snorted loudly, unable to contain her amusement. Her eyes darted from Knave to Nirra, and back – the moon elf was in a strangely good mood, despite them still being imprisoned and their captors not having shown any intent of returning to them just yet. Also, she was slightly more energetic than usual, especially after her relief to find that she still had her two precious longswords. "And how exactly would that go about? I doubt the sahuagin can swallow an entire human in one big mighty chomp." She rolled her eyes, the smirk on her lips growing. "I swear, all of you mages are dreamers."

Knave shrugged. "The thing was 'inspired' enough to try and bite the man's arm off, as a first thing to do," he defended his argument. "I told you I wasn't certain. I just heard a glass-like crack, and I assumed..."

"Bah!" Torri interrupted him, waving an impatient hand. "All we really need to know is that they won't eat us, at least for the time being." She stood up quickly and began pacing about as if she owned the pace. "Just like they didn't eat those before us."

Nirra blinked, and continued to regard her old friend suspiciously. "Torri..." she began insecurely. "Something is wrong with you."

"They've been here, Nirra," the moon elf turned abruptly, in order to face her. Something about her expression wasn't quite right, almost as if she was close to a breaking point, her eyes shone like those of one nearing the loss of part of their sanity. "I have no idea who they are, or why we're drawn behind them by fate, but it's happening."

Her somber allure, as a whole, did nothing but distress the gold elf even further. "Torri," she began tentatively, yet again. "I have no idea what you're talking about. I know you've suffered quite a few shocks, but..."

"Shocks?" the moon elf interrupted. "No shocks for me, I was expecting this. I should have known." She resumed her pacing furiously, glaring at the only door of their rather vast cell.

Knave cleared his throat purposefully loud. "You were better off sleeping," he declared, fixing the moon elf with a pair of defiant eyes.

"Sure," she was quick to agree, not stopping for any longer than was necessary to cast him a sharp glance. "But now I'm not asleep, and there's no point in reminding me how much better that would have been."

The uselessly large amount of words she was using perplexed the other two, who exchanged wary glances. The moon elf was acting as if she was trying to cover up something, trying to concentrate the fullest of her attention on speaking nonsense for the sake of keeping something else away from her – something she didn't want to have to deal with, more or less. And then there was that issue of them following someone, a fact she hadn't held back from stating ten times over already, just like that, without any explanation. At first, they had tried to pry or persuade one out of her, but she seemed to not even hear the questions and inquiries and had just ranted on.

Nirra brought herself up to her full height and eagerly stepped over to her friend, grabbing her arm with a steady firmness that none would have ever imagined to see in her. Torri settled, a look of recognition in her face, and just stared right back into the gold elf's brown eyes. Usually it was the moon elf who dominated, but Knave's interested stare accorded Nirra the full leadership at present unfalteringly. There was something about the gold elf that easily matched any argument Torri might have brought to her defense. With a sigh, the moon elf relaxed wearily, seeming to resign. Only then did her friend let go of her arm, although the imposing look, the thing that had truly held her in place, did not fade away in the least.

"Come to your senses," Nirra bid her, some of her gentle approach still about her, although lost behind the stone-cold calm and that irresistibly strong commanding appearance. Her eyes flashed darkly, and dominated Torri for one more second, before she pulled away and turned to look at Knave, suddenly her usual submissive self again.

The effects on the moon elf were notable in the blink of an eye. Staring down hard at the rough floor below her, she murmured something in elven, to which Nirra only nodded in response and soothingly patted her arm.

Knave shifted visibly, in order to get their attention back to himself, which occurred almost instantly. "Now, since we've settled that matter," he began sharply, his decided tone bringing both of them back to the more practical present time, "can we concentrate on the task at hand?" He didn't look all too pleased or comfortable with Torri's quirked eyebrow and Nirra's questioning look. "Err..." he continued, "..whatever that is?"

"Escaping, I would guess," the moon elf shrugged and turned to once more regard the door. "Although I doubt it can be done without... wait." She spun back abruptly, her suddenly hope-filled eyes glimmering as they drifted over his still seated figure. "Your Dimension Door spell," she prompted.

"Not enough to transport all of us at once," he was quick to cut down her new-found enthusiasm. "I could take the three of us out, but what about all these men?" he requested, gesturing to engulf the small group of sailors gathered at the opposite end of the room.

Torri muttered something unintelligible, followed by a most obvious curse. Basically, her opinion was that they should simply be left behind, but she knew better than to assume either Nirra or Knave would agree to that.

"There must be a way to help them," the gold elf mused, obviously not even considering the possibility of leaving without that feat yet accomplished. Her eyes met Knave's disapproving frown, headed for Torri, and she discreetly gestured for him to drop that. "She wouldn't leave without them any more than we would," she revealed, something about her expression forcing Torri to stop halfway through protesting vehemently. "She just doesn't like to show she cares."

"Why, thank you very much," the moon elf grumbled in a much dwarf-like fashion, not daring to face her friend and be put down again by her glazed eyes.

Nirra shrugged dismissively, and was about to resume her attempt to find another escape for them, when the door swung open with a loud creak. Greenish scaled beings, about twice the height of a man, had they not been walking half-crouched and bent over, entered the room one after the other, in a most ridiculous procession, by the the surfacers' standards. Their heads and arms presented colorful outgrowths, apparently some way to display their rank – most had them blue, but a couple had them yellow, and the last to enter had been gifted with a pair of considerably larger orange ones.

They stopped in the middle of the room, while two of the plain ones with blue marks remained behind to guard the still open door. "You can understand, yes, surface beings?" the orange-marked one, who was also somewhat bigger than its peers, inquired. Its accent was terrible and it was hissing much in the fashion of a snake and considerably worse than a dragon attempting to speak elven, but they could, indeed, understand. Nirra was the one to nod, and the sahuagin automatically took her for the leader of their entire group.

"I wouldn't have thought so, but it can," the creature spoke toward its own kin, curiously, before turning back to them. "Tell me, then, creature, what do you think we should do with you?"

The situation was more than just awkward. Who had ever heard of captors asking their prisoners what they should do? Torri rolled her eyes.

"You could always just... set us free?" Knave innocently interjected, his smile nothing but convincing in the respect of his being as honest as possible.

The sahuagin hissed weirdly, apparently the counterpart of a chuckle. "You are bold, manling," it replied. "I could kill you on the spot... but it wouldn't serve much purpose, would it?" A few of its peers approved with the last statement, nodding... or at least looking like they did. "Indeed, you shall be set free, for our entertainment," the sahuagin leader continued. "Although HOW free, I cannot say."

That last mention seemed to amuse not only the speaker, but the rest of his comrades, since they all gave the same kind of hissing fits.

----------

"Great concept of freedom," Torri muttered, her limbs aching from the notable discomfort of her having been stuffed into a crate which was not the ideal in size, to tell the truth. The thing was tall enough for her seated form to sink in entirely, but not remotely as large as she would have liked it to be. "At least they haven't closed it yet." She stared at the small patch of water-sky, the only thing she could see from down there, framed by the crate's top edges.

She heard Knave snicker form inside his own crate, a few feet away from her own.

"It's NOT funny," she was quick to gruffly scold him, although she was quite amused herself by that point.

"I beg to differ," he replied with mock formality, which caused Nirra to give a small laugh, from a third crate somewhere around.

One of their sahuagin guards hissed at them, and they fell silent again. For a while, nothing seemed to happen, but finally they heard steps approaching, and soon the head of the same orange-marked shark man authority was staring down at Torri from above the crate's top. "I hope you will enjoy your... journey," the creature taunted her, which brought laughter from a large amount of his kin that Torri could not see. Then, the official stepped aside, so that one of his guards could place the lid and seal the crate.

Torri was left in the relative darkness. She held her breath for a few seconds, until her ears caught the sound of a few other crates being sealed, just the way hers had. Again, for a few moments, nothing occurred, but finally Torri could feel the pressure shifting when her crate was lifted from solid ground. Somewhere to her right, Knave was whistling in a much too carefree manner, and humming a tune serenely – probably to annoy the sahuagin, the moon elf reasoned. A sharp metal-against-wood thud was heard, most likely a prod at the respective crate, and Knave fell silent, not before chuckling again. She knew that her own crate now hung limply in the air, at the end of some rope by the feel of it, and it took her a while to realize it was descending, probably not bound to stop for a while. Also, the darkness grew with every passing moment.


	11. Chapter XI

**Chapter Eleven**

"I'm not sure I want to use magic in the little space I have here," came Knave's voice, distorted by the crate he was still in, but otherwise ironical, as per usual.

They had all waited tensely for a while, once all the crates had been landed and the noises of that move had ceased. The ropes themselves had been carelessly dropped behind, their swishing against the wood unmistakable.

"Just let me do the job, as it always happens to be," Torri mocked cruelly, struggling and squirming, in order to somehow bring herself to draw one of her swords from its sheath. The elongated form was rested closely at the side of her leg, and it was quite a difficult feat to perform given that she could barely free up any space at all. Finally, however, she managed to do so, and used an intricate sequence of turn-arounds in mostly diagonals, until she could hold the blade's tip upwards, aiming at the crate's lid. A few careless stabs were enough – the wood wasn't solid at all, and most definitely not when it came to standing against a fine elven sword.

However, further on she just sat back and blinked... several times. Peeking out over the edge, she had to remember to close her mouth when she actually realized her jaw had dropped; she tried to figure the reason why nothing changed concerning the total and complete absence of any light. Even her elven infravision worked poorly here, only revealing a darkened purple environment made of cold stone, and giving her surroundings just enough of a shape for her not to stumble and fall at every step, should she attempt to move through. The entire layout looked wild and chaotic enough for her to realize it hadn't been touched and reformed by any hands, human, elven or other alike.

"This had sooo better not be what I think it is," she muttered grimly while pulling herself out of the crate, and stretching as she straddled the edge and jerked away. Her boots touched the type of solid ground she had expected, that held firm below her full weight.

The moon elf proceeded to letting the rest of the others out of their crates, the ones she freed up first helping her speed up the process and release the rest. Soon they were all gathered together, more by sensing and hearing than by sight, keeping close to each other. Nirra's cold hand reached to find Torri's and, by the feel of it, Knave was on the gold elf's other side.

"It's the Underdark, isn't it?" the moon elf pressed, shaking her head, her attitude too devoid of emotion not to betray how terrified she was to face that perspective.

"As far as I can tell, yes," Knave grimly admitted, putting too little effort in trying to convince her otherwise.

They could hear the men shifting uneasily all around them, their little circle now complete. "Now what?" asked one of the impatient ones.

"Now we..." - Knave shrugged, quite helplessly – "... walk."

Torri's reply came as a displeased grunt, but she did not object when they all clasped hands and proceeded forward one by one, guided by what little sight the two elves still possessed, in opposition to the human's complete blindness.

Torri had already voiced her concern a few minutes before, when the silence around them had been breached by a trudging sound which had more than clearly resembled a pair of footsteps quite close to them. By the squeeze of Nirra's hand, she could tell that the gold elf shared her worry, although she and Knave had hurried to vehemently deny that they had heard it, too, in order not to strike panic among the men.

"What was that?" one of the sailors eventually fell out of line, when they all heard it again, louder, closer; the entire procession had to stop and wait for him to overcome fear.

The man didn't seem to intent on doing that, though, he just backed off into the nearby wall, shaking his head frantically and trembling. "Something's coming," he kept muttering. "It'll be here soon."

"I'm afraid it's not just 'something'," Knave broke out of the line himself, to hover in the man's general direction. "By the now regular sound of those steps, cautious though they may be, this is a drow party."

His words, not an all too wise thing to say at that point anyway, mind you, made Torri shudder. She had probably known that before him, but she had not dared to voice it, not even inside her own mind – the perspective terrified her. Nirra sensed it, apparently, for she bulked at her side at once, draping an arm around her waist. The moon elf was grateful, and smiled, although her companion could not see, at this little amount of warmth received in a time of trouble.

"Drow," the men began to murmur all around them, and some were quick to flee in all directions.

"Run for your lives!" the shouts echoed dismally.

It was awkward and almost unbelievable how quick panic could come at work and steal every bit of ration away. Soon, the mage and his two elven companions were left alone completely, all directions now filled with frantic footsteps, rendering them unable to distinguish a thing. Soon, terrified screams came to join those sounds, and that seemed to wake the three up from deep revelry.

Knave was the first to speak, and what he had to say gave a slight shock to both of the elves, but the decision in his tone had been too sincere and selfless to contest. "Go," he urged them. "The same direction we've been heading so far. I'll remain behind and ensure they don't come after you any time soon."

Torri turned halfway though leaving, without any further objection, but Nirra stayed her from performing it any further. "We cannot just leave without you!" she hissed an outraged whisper. "It would be..."

"Nirra, let's GO!" Torri tugged at her hand, and the gold elf lost her balance for a second. She steadily tugged right back at her friend the very next moment, though, once more holding her in place.

"As I know them, they'll rather capture than kill," Knave continued, quickly. "Save yourselves, and you can worry about rescuing me afterwards. Any risk will have been mine, in any case."

Nirra rose to protest yet again, but Torri's desperate and incessant pulling drew her away in a heartbeat, her now eroded reluctance made a far easier obstacle to surmount; they began to run, while the human mage stayed in place, preparing his spells. The gold elf was dragged against her will and kept defying any of Torri's efforts to keep her from looking behind them all the time, despite the fact that they could not see anything anyway.

They both knew the drow had the advantage, not only over Knave, but over them as well. There wasn't much time to spare, and Torri urged her companion further and further through the tunnel. Not just rarely did they happen to trip and stumble, but one was always at the ready to support the other and put her back on track. However, in the end, it was clear that they were being pursued, just as it was clear that said pursuers were catching up quickly.

Torri came to a sudden halt, causing Nirra to almost lose her balance in the moment of surprise. "We need a place to hide," the moon elf whispered.

At once, she had spotted one. She shoved Nirra between some rocks and some giant mushroom-like vegetation, if it could be called so, quite unceremoniously. "Do NOT come out until I call on you," the moon elf commanded, and there was no room for defiance.

Then, gathering the last remainders of her conscious rational mind to form a barrier against the paralyzing effect of fear, Torri dived over to the other side of the corridor, where she shrunk and curled up between some rocks herself. A desperate method, with little hope for success, yet it was better than simply running when you knew for sure the pursuers had the upper hand.


	12. Chapter XII

**Chapter Twelve**

The sounds of footsteps and whispering had stopped quite some while back, or, more accurately, they had faded away as the drow party passed through and went on, pursuing two surfacers that were no longer before them. Torri still thought they had been as lucky as possible to have eluded the drow's senses – after all, they were the natives of the Underdark, and she doubted she and Nirra had done such a good job at hiding. However, she was happy to be alive, and those thoughts were useless now.

She waited for a while more, to make sure no scout had been left behind, or that the patrol wouldn't return. She was just wondering whether she had waited enough, when a fearful cry gave her a huge startle, for she had recognized it as Nirra's, and it had been coming from the very hideout she'd placed the gold elf in. Naturally, Torri would have never forgiven herself if anything happened to her friend because of her.

The moon elf sprung to her feet in an instant, and darted across the corridor. Even as she did so, she noticed the dark, but otherwise indistinguishable, figure looming near Nirra's hideout, and reflex got the best of her as she dove in, both her swords drawn and in hand. She pressed their pommels against the figure's shoulders as she tumbled it to the ground face first, and sat on its back, straddling what now appeared to be a drow male. Swiftly, she turned her right-hand sword around, bringing its blade to edge down down on the nape of his neck and pressing brutally, but not hard enough to slice through yet, even as the drow was instinctively attempting to turn his head and see his aggressor. The newest skilled move of the moon elven fightress pinned him completely.

"Give me ONE reason not to kill you!" Torri snarled, furiously, using the common tongue of the Realms, her eyes as filled with hateful anger as her voice, though chance had it no one could see that.

"Torri, no!" Nirra pleaded with her, also speaking common, for the drow to understand. She stood and came out from behind the rock. "I was just scared when I cried out, but he hasn't hurt me."

"He was going to," Torri stubbornly held her ground, pressing the drow male even closer into the rough natural stone floor. She had expected him to try and escape, but apparently he was wiser than that, for she would have broken his neck like a twig at the smallest attempt. She could feel his tensed readiness against her own body; should she have given him the chance, he wouldn't have hesitated to turn on her, and something told Torri she should fear that eventuality. But, that was all the resistance he was willing to offer just now. "Where are the others?" she didn't give him time to defend himself, nor did she wonder whether he even really spoke common at all.

"They've gone," he finally spoke, upon exhaling a deep breath as well as he could, given his current state. His accent was awkward, his tone held something of the harshness of his native tongue, but he was clear enough and easy to understand. "They had your mage."

Nirra took another tentative step and closed in on them as soon as she heard the mention. "He's alive?" she asked, more than just hopeful and eager to know.

"Yes," the drow confirmed. "He is a prisoner, and I can help you free him. If only your companion would..."

"No!" Torri interrupted his unfinished question through gritted teeth, pure outrage easily readable in her answer. "I wouldn't trust you two paces from here, drow." ... Why wasn't there fear in his voice? She wanted him to show that he feared her, feared for his life.

"Torri," Nirra interfered yet again, coming to sit on her haunches right at their side and eyeing the drow. "Why would you help us?" she demanded firmly, though compassion was still hidden somewhere behind that inflexion.

"I am an outcast from my people," he explained briefly.

He shifted below Torri, gaining a bit of comfort, and the moon elf bit her tongue, scolding herself for allowing that to happen. She was supposed to be the one IN CONTROL. For a moment, she hesitated, almost driven by the urge to just finish him on the spot, and then maybe cut him to little pieces and feed him to the... no. She wasn't the drow here, he was.

"I am one of Eilistraee's followers," the drow added, seeing as to how no one was saying anything more.

That only caused Torri to flinch. She knew that Eilistraee was more of a drow Goddess than one of the Seldarine, but she was closely associated with the moon of her people, and her hatred for the entire drow race immediately, though illogically, denied this male the right to worship that divinity. "Why should we believe you?" she snapped, even more aversion filling her voice.

The drow sighed, which perplexed her. She looked to Nirra for support, although she should have known she wouldn't get any, and that was her mistake. Her grip weakened, for only a split second, but it was enough for the male to swiftly but unceremoniously sweep her off him, with one of the arms she had been negligent enough to let free. Rolling over, he was on his feet way before she had even realized what had happened, and she found herself sitting awkwardly on the ground and blinking. The entire scene had caused Nirra to warily dart back to her feet, but the gold elf had relaxed afterwards.

Torri braced herself for an incoming attack, but none such thing happened and she eventually had to look up. All she found was a friendly hand held out to her, offering help with pulling herself up. Ignoring the offer, she muttered darkly, in another language that neither Nirra nor the drow understood, or minded for that matter, then pulled herself together and stood to her feet.

"You're welcome," the drow taunted her, letting his hand fall back at his side.

She just glared in his general direction and rolled her eyes in silence. No one failed to notice the swords that were still in her hands, and how ready – willing, even – she was to use them. She had to swallow tightly, her only wish being that to attack him and fight to the death; she wanted to strangle him, or plunge the sword through his stomach, or just grab him and smash him into the wall repeatedly, until nothing remained of his head but a battered pulp. Not even she knew exactly where so much hate had a place in her heart.

He seemed to sense her intentions, for he turned to face her squarely, ready to defend. "Calm yourself, surfacer," he hissed, exasperatedly. "You no longer hold the surprise element, and I am more than a match for you."

Torri gritted her teeth, her fingers pressing so tightly into the sword-hilts as they clutched, that it would look like she expected them to become one with the weapon. However, she refrained from attacking, clung to the last remaining bit of rational logic she had left; she knew he had spoken the truth, and though she was no coward, she wasn't a fool either.

"What do you want from us?" she asked, making use of that colder-than-ice calm she possessed when something was terribly trying her patience. Nirra moved swiftly and came to her side, placing a hand on her shoulder. The touch seemed to have some sort of magic effect on her, causing her muscles to gradually relax, one by one, until the swords came to hang limply at her sides, as extensions to her very arms.

"I saw everything," the drow replied, doing his best to remain respectful, though it was obvious that he shared Torri's antipathy completely."I believe I could help you save your brave mage friend, AND find a way out."

Torri snorted, disbelievingly, but Nirra's hold of her grew firmer and she let go of the acid retort she had prepared. "I thank you," the gold elf spoke instead, coldly, though as polite as an expert diplomat would have been. "Though I do NOT trust you."

"Fair enough," he nodded, a barely perceptible move in the blackness that was the Underdark. "Actions prove people's intent better than words."

"Sure they do," Torri snickered, not wanting to miss the opportunity to exert her revenge any way she could, and by any means. "And since you are drow, what exactly would you require in return for this little 'favor' you're doing us?"

"I will not ask for much," he replied testily. "Only that you allow me to tag along, until you reach the surface. I wish to look upon my Goddess' moon."

"It's not much, indeed," Nirra agreed. "Very well. I suppose we don't have much choice if we are to save Knave, anyway." The last phrase had been directed at her moon elven friend, rather than at the drow.

"You'll stab us in the back on our way to 'rescuing' Knave, but sure, why not?" Torri smiled defiantly. ... That oddly reminded her of... someone. She stammered, blinking, and wondering whether it was a racial trait and she hadn't been able to tell so far. Whatever.

"There is no way to see how something will turn out unless you make the attempt," the drow replied evenly. "Moreover, tarrying over issues of distrust won't get us anywhere right now."

"It'll get ME somewhere," Torri muttered, but then just shrugged and snapped her swords back into their sheaths, though her hand continued to rest on the hilts.

"He's right," Nirra patted her shoulder, before detaching from her side and stepping into the corridor. She had decided to show the drow that she wasn't afraid, and she did so by posting herself right in front of him. "My name is Nehera," she said calmly, "and she is Toreen."

"I am Solaufein," the drow nodded politely, although he was obviously intelligent enough not to delude himself that names would do anything in the direction of the trust issues.

"Drow," Torri shrugged, drifting past him and Nirra, all too casual and relaxed for it to be authentic. That spoke enough from her part, totally giving out her intention to ignore the news that he had a name. When he rolled his eyes, she had expected it so much that she felt him doing so, and just laughed mockingly. "Lead the way, then," she bid, not without slipping a new trace of aversion and doubt behind her sweetly poisonous tone.

Solaufein sighed, and decided to ignore her, as he addressed Nirra. "They took the mage to a camp nearby. The place is well guarded, but we'd best move before they've had time to torture or mutilate him. ... If they haven't already."

Nirra shuddered, unable to do anything else but nod, to show that she had acknowledged. Torri turned back to them, abruptly. "They'd better have not," she threatened grimly. "Or they will receive ten times worse. This, I promise."

"You are speaking from experience?" Solaufein flinched, curious all of a sudden.

Not deigning his worth enough for her to answer, the moon elf just shrugged again. "Will you move already?" was her only reply.

"How many guards?" Nirra stepped into the dialogue, the subtly powerful inflexions of her voice silencing their little argument once more.

"I'm not sure," the drow pondered. "I will do some scouting once we've reached the place, and find out for you."

"Or you'll just do us a favor and betray our presence to them, right?" Torri was quick to add. "Just move."

He sighed heavily, exchanging an indefinite look with Nirra. Obviously, the only thing that kept him from giving a recklessly rude reply was the hope that maybe the moon elf was only overcautious, not prejudicial, and she would change her opinion. Also, something about the gold elf's posture seemed to calm him, and he did no more than turn around, and gesture for them to follow as he set off back in the direction they had come from. "Some of the guards will still be gone, searching for you, though the handmaiden will still be there," he explained. "This is the only chance to actually succeed."

The two females just followed, both adamant in their decision to try this. Actually... Torri wasn't so exalted about the whole of it, but she knew that Nirra would never leave before they had at least made an attempt.

* * *

**Author's Note:**_ I think it's pretty logical that I will be ignoring the Solaufein game mod and what it adds to the BG2 storyline. However, it's a fair warning for me to give: I will also be ignoring ANY other unofficial mods out there. They're fun to play, some were actually brilliant, but the accepted version of the story is the simple one, whether we like it or not._


	13. Chapter XIII

**Chapter Thirteen**

They ducked low behind a rock formation near the wall as soon as the candle light and eerie glow of faerie fire hit them upon turning a corner. Nirra stumbled behind the other two, whose reflexes were much more polished than hers, but the drow was quick to grab and steady her, then pulled her into hiding. Near Solaufein, a fierce Torri, hands firmly placed on the hilts of her swords, looked ready to attack as soon as anything looked suspicious about what he was doing. Nothing did happen, though, and she relaxed again, at least halfway through to perfection.

"Remain hidden," the drow male whispered, his voice perceptible only so barely that it would have seemed a figment of their imagination, hadn't he actually been standing right before them. "I'll do the necessary scouting."

Torri wanted to hiss her defiance and total disagreement back at him, but she thought better and kept it to herself. She wasn't sure her voice could even begin to sink to that quiet a tone, and she didn't want to test it until it was really needed. Giving Nirra's hand a comforting squeeze, the moon elf just waited, while the drow's slender form slunk soundlessly along the rocks, towards the dangerously lit edge, and he peeked beyond.

A few moments fleeted past, full of a burdening lack of action and events, but finally Solaufein returned to the two, the same way he'd gone, seemingly unnoticed by anyone. _How do we know he's not signaled everything to those drow out there?_ Torri thought to herself, biting her lower lip in the process of waiting for any explanation.

"It's a small circular cavern," the drow didn't waste any more time and began exposing the known facts. "There's no other exit from it than this one. Your mage friend is conscious and caged at the back of it, opposite from here, but they've made the mistake of not warding his prison against spells. They probably thought they were safe, having him outnumbered, but once we're in the fray, he may be able to help."

He made a small break there, weighing facts and composing a further mental summary, but both surface elves knew better than to speak, so they allowed him to take time. Finally, he continued. "As I predicted, the handmaiden is there; she's at the very center of the cavern. Two male fighter guards are posted by the cage, and there are four more of them scattered about the nearby wall. All are dual-wielders. They have their own mage, who is hidden in shadows, just left of the entrance."

Torri and Nirra nodded. It was pretty easy to judge the situation. They were outnumbered, but not greatly so – evenly divided, they could have composed two-on-one matches. Of course, that wasn't the advised tactic to adopt. What the drow party had tried to do when planning their defenses was to lure the whole number of whoever would attack them into the cavern, for an apparent melee battle, then have their mage appear from behind and make it much easier for them. Aware of the mage's presence, the three – or four, if Knave would indeed be able to help – could easily twist that to their own advantage.

"I should be the front line," Torri dared to finally say something, her breath contained and the words barely put out. Any less than that and she wouldn't have been speaking at all, and still the drow's words had been far quieter and better suited. However, hers were fine too, and that was what mattered.

"Agreed," Solaufein replied after a short study he gave her, then looked to Nirra. "As much as I can tell, you are a mage. Am I correct?" Nirra nodded, and so he continued. "We should deal with the males quite easily, as long as you keep the mage busy and we both charge the fighters. The only problem would be the handmaiden."

"The handmaiden is mine," Torri interjected. "If the rest of you concentrate on holding the others away long enough, I can destroy her."

The drow looked at her, as if weighing her words and estimating how capable she was to do as she had said, exactly. Finally, he shook his head. "We have the surprise element. Twice. They don't know we're here, so you and I could easily dispatch one fighter each before they rally correctly. Most likely, they will forget about your imprisoned friend, so HE may be able to rid us of the handmaiden. We just have to let him know that's what we need. On the other hand, if you go straight at the handmaiden, they will encircle you, and I won't be able to help much until too late."

"I wasn't bargaining with you, drow," Torri replied, although she had sat patiently through his speech. Then, she bolted so unexpectedly that none of them was able to stop her, and she stalked rapidly straight into the cavern, the dim lights of the camp revealing the hateful expression carved into her features.

"Stupid surfacer," Solaufein cursed, then darted after her, and Nirra did not need any other prodding to follow right behind. They both put their intentions of scolding Torri aside, for later... IF there was going to be a later time.

As Solaufein had predicted accurately, at first the fighters allowed Torri to close in on the handmaiden, who readied her mace for the confrontation, glancing furtively at the tentacle rod she had brought with her. The female had been stupid enough to place it away, but she wasn't even stupider, to now think that the moon elf wouldn't kill her the first moment she should even attempt to turn around and grab it from the floor. The two came to face each other, none any less determined to win this battle, while the male fighters closed in from all sides; even the two had left their posts by the cage and were approaching. By all semblances, Torri didn't stand the faintest chance.

Just as the drow party's male mage was stepping out of the shadows, oblivious to the two other figures closing in from behind him, a stone-calm Solaufein darted right past him, and, before he could do anything to stop or harm him, he became conscious of another presence, that of a female already chanting a spell behind him. He had made a terrible mistake, and when he turned, not one, but four identical gold elven mages were smiling at him from the corridor. Three were nothing but mirror images, but he could no longer know which was the real one, for he hadn't seen her alone. The drow mage did the only effective thing he could do – he raised his hands and began tracing the runes and chanting for a countering spell, one that would deny hers and scatter the mirror images into thin air.

Nirra was satisfied enough with him losing time with that, and she looked to the combat scene before her, which had gotten dangerously close to starting. Her next spell was aimed at the fighter Solaufein was quickly closing in on, and it rendered the male helpless as it engulfed and held him still, unable to move. Solaufein did not hesitate, and he stepped in quickly, spinning a full 360 degrees, his two-handed sword elegantly held above; the blade fell quickly and decapitated the would-be opponent in a flash. The head tumbled to the floor, and the body only followed later, with a thud that went unheard by any, given the circumstances. Nirra and Torri's newest ally paid him no more attention, and moved in to engage another fighter, whom Torri had casually shoved out of her way with a well-placed pommel-hit, and one of his companions joined in quickly, trapping Solaufein there. The moon elf was left to fend off the rest and the handmaiden by herself, as he had warned her.

A bit further, but in the chaos of the same few moments, red light flared to life inside the cage, where Knave was effectively casting his own little spell – the two guards who had departed from their posts soon found themselves trapped by huge webs emerging from the floor, and they struggled futilely to cleave their way through. The mage would now only need to cast something else to finish them off. All in all, it left three others for Torri to still worry about.

However, Nirra's mirror images died down right that instant, crumbling into nothingness right at her sides, and she could see no more. She had to properly concentrate on her own one-on-one duel now.

* * *

Torri had paid only too little attention to the male fighters; she only saw them as minor impediments which she could simply shove out of the way and forget about, certain that Solaufein, close behind her, would deal with them from there. Once one of her swords furiously snapped at the handmaiden's mace, however, she was conscious of her mistake, when she had to turn and fend off two attackers, all too well aware that a third was closing in quickly. That did a total of four opponents – not so good.

The moon elf swung about, and, taking a moment to parry and deflect a vicious thrust from a side, she drifted past through the last opening, avoiding another attack and not allowing them to close the circle around her. Spinning, she returned to the same opponent, who was just turning to follow her move; she gave him no quarter, and went in, but a slashing sword coming from the left had her retreating before she could score any hit there.

The fight's speed was insane; she barely had time to think and plan, and all she could do was retreat mechanically, parrying and diverting attacks out of reflex, unable to start any of her own. She saw the handmaiden for a split-second, the female having tossed her mace aside and grabbed the rod. Things did not look good at all, and without realizing it Torri wished she had listened to Solaufein. Continuing to back away, she flailed both her weapons about handily, her hips swinging from one side to the other in determined thrusts, which kept her balance always on the edge, near to collapsing, but allowed her an uncanny amount of mobility. However, she knew she would need a long moment's pause if she were to stop, so she had basically trapped herself in this state of continual movement until she would find a way to rest for a second.

She gained that momentum the only safe way she could think of, by returning to Solaufein's side; their backs met steadily without any second thoughts – as much as Torri didn't like it, there was no time for whims and turning up your nose in combat. They allowed the adversaries to encircle them and led them to believe that they'd stay there, but as the five reunited drow fighters gained confidence, the pair split up again, taking them by surprise, each concentrating on one opponent as they broke through the circle.

Torri chose to do so in a whirl, picking two small hits aimed at two different drow, rather than a devastating blow at one. A magic missile from Knave flared past her, casting its red glow about her hair in the proximity, but what it touched was another of her opponents, who staggered behind her under the shock of the multiple blasts. However, the only thing the spell did was slow him down and heat up his armor, and the next moment, the male was pursuing Torri again, just like her other two opponents had done when they'd recovered from her hits.

This time, however, the moon elf did not back away; she had had time enough to prepare, and she snarled, then dove forward, viciously whipping her sword at the closest one's face. The blade cut a clean line along, the eye included in its extent, and the drow growled in pain. The other two left him behind, coming in quickly, and the battle raged on.

As oblivious to the handmaiden as Torri herself, Solaufein had drifted to the other side, followed by the other two drow males, and was handily fending them off, and inflicting significantly more damage with his rare but concentrated blows than the moon elf's quick series of hack and slash. He pulled the solid blade free of its new victim's belly, the armor-plates having done too little to protect it from that strong a thrust, and he was conscious that his own armor had just deflected an ill-placed strike from the behind, where he'd left the other opponent. He had been careless, but lucky. Spinning, he only froze in place when his eyes fell upon the handmaiden, her confident smirk perfectly understandable, given the nine-tailed rod coming to life in her hand.

Solaufein retreated quickly, as the remaining fighter withdrew to his superior's side, grinning viciously at him. Both the handmaiden and the fighter advanced on him the very next instant, and he kept backing away much faster, buying precious time to think of a new tactic.

* * *

The moment the mirror images vanished, Nirra and the drow mage were left standing as equals, facing each other with caution. For the next few moments, both of them tensely awaited for the other to make a first move, but that didn't happen. Finally, they both moved at the same time, each of them determined to be the first to finish the spell.

Mage duels were quite simple, where protection spells weren't involved, and this was the case. The first one of them to attempt and cast one was possibly doomed, for if the other finished first, they had a chance to hit before the shield was up. This way, they were both left with no alternative than to attack. The way they chose to do so, however, was vital.

Nirra was the smarter one. She picked a simple Magic Missile for a start, and cast the four small globes before the mage's more complicated incantation, for whatever it was, had even begun to gain a definite shape. His begun spell fizzled as he could no longer concentrate on anything else but batting at the reddish fire his robe's folds had caught.

By the time he was done extinguishing it, he was left with little else to do than watch her finish another spell. However, something went wrong with what appeared like a call on Melf's Minute Meteors, for instead of forming into flaming pebbles in her hand, the dazzling mass of sparks spread out and disappeared all too quickly.

The drow mage snickered, and was already chanting before she could even think of another spell. Left with crude, primitive methods to elude being killed, Nirra waited until the last moment, then dove away to the side, tumbling to the floor. She bruised her elbows and forehead, but at least the magically conjured acid arrow had missed her.

The male was young and, though powerful, he lacked the experience of too many fights. His surprise got the best of him and he just froze, blinking at her in disbelief. He had thought she was dead for sure.

Nirra brushed herself up, ready to take advantage of this unexpected, but definitely not unwelcome delay. Once again, she chose a simple spell quickly, and advanced on the drow mage, who began to chant something right after she had started. Holding out her hands, thumbs touching each other and the rest of her fingers spread out like a fan, she was done and fire shot away from each fingertip, aimed directly at the opponent's face. His hair was ablaze in a matter of seconds, and skin crumpled and tore off his features most horribly, under the action of such immense heat.

The gold elf didn't look; turning her head, she sought Knave, who was just finishing another spell, apparently aimed at one of Torri's opponents. She didn't track that, for her own magic was over right at that moment, and she proceeded to sneaking along the wall and making her way towards the cage. Behind her, a thud resounded eerily when the male, with his scorched head, fell to the floor.

* * *

Torri leaped away with cat's grace, not allowing herself to be trapped and cornered into the wall, and even as she did so she parried an attack aimed for her head, by bringing up one of her swords. The other weapon had to quickly descend to meet a chop from another opponent, and then she threw her arms apart as much as possible, venting both of them away, just in time to duck below the third's clumsy attempt.

Now they were all left behind, and she spun quickly, scoring a kick at the last one, which sent him tumbling into the others. As expected of such loving and compassionate beings, they shoved their own companion away brutally, and he hit the wall in full flight, head cracking against the rock.

"Thank you," Torri grinned, and bowed most graciously, before they got close enough and she had to resume whirling about and crossing with them. "I know I could count on your help," she didn't renounce her sarcasm, even as she forcefully pushed her way between them, separating one from the other.

Things seemed to be sorting out for the moon elf; Knave's spells hadn't managed to hurt the drow, but they had distracted them and given her time to plan ahead and switch tactics. Just as she beamed with the certainty that she was surely the winner here, her eyes met the scene of Solaufein backing off from the handmaiden, with her tentacle rod, and the other fighter.

That was enough to drive the moon elf senseless with anger and rage, and she darted from her own fight, coming in from the side. _She's mine,_ she thought to herself, a concern that subdued all others.

The fighter continued towards Solaufein, but the handmaiden stopped, and snarled at the moon elf's vicious approach. The latter did not waste a moment, and fiercely slashed away at the drow female, but one of the tentacles snapped up by its own accord, and wrapped about the attacking blade; soon, two more followed, and they tugged at the sword so abruptly that Torri would have been pulled behind, but she let go. The weapon was cast aside, too far away for her to reach it promptly.

Torri's former opponents had given chase, but the handmaiden gestured them to join their comrade in battling Solaufein. She barked an order at them, in drow, and the moon elf could only understand the bit where the female was referring to her as 'the fool'. Blindly, she gripped her remaining sword with both hands, and lurched forward, slashing forcefully for the drow female's head. This time, the tentacle rod acted on the handmaiden's own command, and dove forward, but Torri knew better than to let it perform the same trick again. She averted the attack over to the other side in the last split second, but that made it far less effective and it just bounced off the strong armor plates.

For a moment, the two faced each other, none of them fond of what they were seeing, both defiant and sure that they would win.

* * *

"Why haven't you cast 'Knock' on the door?" Nirra hurriedly asked Knave once she was by the cage, and then began to do so herself, now that she was there.

"I'm an Abjurer," he replied absently. "Alteration spells are denied to me." All that time, his eyes never left the melee field – his spells hadn't done much damage, aside from the two he had webbed and killed, but they had helped Torri a great deal. The moon elf, however, had chosen to throw away her clear advantage and go for the handmaiden.

"Think she can deal with that?" he pointed Nirra the right direction.

The gold elf looked over, shortly. "Yes," she nodded, then her eyes fell to the other scene, one that didn't look as good. "Let's go help Solaufein."

Knave made the logical connection, and followed her as she stalked off determinedly.

* * *

Solaufein didn't like the way things looked for him at all, but he had no time to curse Torri's second display of foolishness; he could only fight. The fact that he was a two-handed fighter and they were dual-wielders did not come much to his aid – on contrary. He was stronger and more experienced, but at such a pace, he was also forced to dodge, and block where he could, so often that there was no time for anything else.

A sword came from the right, and he ducked, then its counterpart slashed from the left, followed immediately by a double stab from a second fighter. All he could do was roll away, an inch from instant death all the time, and he breathed deeply when he was back up a few feet further. The third was the only one able to follow him immediately, and Solaufein blocked his first strike easily, blades clashing with a crude sound of metal on metal. He thrust all of his strength into that, and drove the adversary backwards, then sent him staggering with a kick. Dropping back to the floor just in time, he whirled, throwing his leg to the side and causing another to stumble, but not fall.

Edging away once more, Solaufein stood back up, and turned, to see he had been too late; fortunately, his move had shifted the angle, and the attack only reached his arm, a blade plunging deeply into muscular tissue. Tugging forcefully backwards, he managed to relieve the weapon from the opponent's hand, at the cost of only so much more pain for him. He grimaced as he pulled it out, then dodged another attack, and parried a third with his remaining hand. Retreating some more, he gained a pause, and used it to rest for a moment.

If it had been difficult so far, now it would be hell – bearing a two-handed blade in just your left hand wasn't something he liked to do on a regular basis. Breathing heavily, he got ready to face the charge again, but instead, as the screams of warning finally reached his ears, he immediately dove to a side, behind a rock, dropping his weapon and crouching desperately for protection. A quick-following huge flash of light on the other side told him he had seen and evaded the fireball just in time.

He picked his sword back up and came out, almost slipping on the blackened floor, to meet Nirra and Knave as they stopped to check that the two burnt bodies were truly dead. Solaufein was quick to spot his third opponent, cradled against the wall, the feather-adorned back of a magically conjured arrow sticking out of his head. Nodding his thanks, he scanned the room for Torri.

* * *

The tentacles were vicious, powerful, and nine in number, while she only had one sword to defend against them. The priestess whipped them about skillfully and effortlessly, her mind ordering their every move to a millimeter's perfection. With that in stock, Torri could only remotely even hope to score a hit on her.

That only made the hate grow...

Blindly, a machine possessed by reflex and instinct, the moon elf slashed and snapped at anything that approached her, drove the tendrils away as soon as they began to close in. There was no room in her mind for anything but these fierce blows; she spun, she tried a hit, backed away to bat a tendril that had gotten too close back, avoided another, slashed at a third, and then all went on repeat, the speed increasing, until she failed and had to withdraw another step. She was losing ground, and fast.

A triumphant grin spread upon her face when a lucky hack split a snake-headed end away from its tentacle, and the others quivered eerily and withdrew. Eager to score a hit, she failed to see the trick for what it was and stabbed forward, at the priestess' stomach. The shield, which the drow female had never ceased to hold, but had merely not used so far, came hard against her temple.

Torri jerked back, her head throbbing, as blood trickled down the side of her head in great drops, staining her shoulder plate. Before she even remembered that she couldn't just stop and wait, she was conscious of the grease-like touch, the snake curling around her wrist. For only a second, that was all, but then the flash of pain so familiar to her surged through her entire body, and she felt her muscles curl and compress as she fell to her knees. The sensation was so acute, so undeniable, almost as if everything was shrinking around her bones, and they would soon snap like twigs and all would shatter inside of her, crumbling to dust.

Everything went black – even blacker than the unlit Underdark itself could ever be. It was not this one touch that ate at her so, but the memory of a hundred more like it, and even more, the vivid recollection of things ten times worse that had followed the pain. That part of her mind, which she had thought sealed away, opened again, surfaced immediately, and all she could feel was fear, despair. Her own spirit was helping intensify the suffering, was making it countless times worse than it truly was.

The moon elf fought to shake the sensation off, fought for control over her body acerbically. Another tendril came to join the first, and then a third, they advanced along her forearm. Inching their way. Caressing. Killing. Convulsive fits shook her, their strength beyond any means of control, as she crumbled away to the floor, unable to even draw breath.

And then, slowly, it all eased away... it became distant. Her body felt like it was ceasing to be hers, gradually, and the spirit distanced itself, so eager to escape that it did not care about what it left behind anymore, its will broken completely. The pain diminished, fell away into welcome numbness and an indefinite combination of warmth and cold. It was so much easier, this path... so much easier to be a coward and run.

An insane, absent smile curled the still shaking body's lips, when the last tentacle wrapped itself about her neck, and began to strangle. Did it matter? She was no longer breathing anyway.

* * *

Torri's wake-up call was anything but gentle, just another great surge of pain that felt like it threatened, for a moment, to split her in two. And yet, as she sat up so quickly, room and everything spinning about her in an amalgam of shades, the pain diminished; she was alive.

Someone was talking, but the sound of it was covered and echoed by the pounding in her own head, too far away for now. She waited for what seemed to her altered perception like ages, until her vision cleared slightly and the pressure inside her, heaving on every fiber of her being, eased away.

The first image to hit her eyes was that of a concerned Nirra hovering about her, a worried, shaking frown causing ripples to cross the delicate golden skin on her forehead. The two frightened green eyes that looked at her incessantly had the strange effect of making her smile, as her friend fell forward into her embrace.

Torri's weary and still aching arms wrapped about Nirra, and the two closed their eyes, sharing a moment with the realization that they had been closer than ever from losing each other. Finally, they broke free of each other slowly, and the gold elf helped her friend up patiently.

"Good to have you back, Torri," Knave's ever-cheerful voice resounded from the right, and when the moon elf smiled faintly his way, he winked. Apparently, a playful approach was what he saw best, and Torri couldn't deny the fact that it was... encouraging, somehow.

"You were foolish, surfacer, and terribly so," some less benevolent third person greeted her harshly. "Maybe this lesson will serve you well."

Torri would have glared, but she felt exhausted, so she merely gave a shrug, as she parted with Nirra and attempted to stand on her own. Her legs held her only barely, shakily even, but they did and that was all she could ask. She refused Nirra's offer to support her again. "I believe I can feel my failure ten times more than you can, drow," she replied, her voice a bit hoarse, which only accentuated the indifferent sorrow.

"You deserved ALL that has happened here," Solaufein retorted coldly.

"Please," Nirra interfered, pleadingly defending her friend despite the fact that she could not totally deny the drow's logic. "This isn't the time."

"Enough," Knave cut the argument short, then smirked ironically "...children." He took a small break and glared at them all severely, until he was sure both Torri and the drow would be silent and obedient. "Now. Torri, save your strength. Solaufein, would you be kind enough to start pointing the way BEFORE the rest return?"

The drow nodded, and started off cautiously towards the cavern's exit/entrance and the tunnels they had come from. Knave handed Torri her two swords, which they had sought and picked up, and the moon elf begrudgingly relieved him of the weapons and sheathed them, all the time eyeing him with the hostile resignation of a caged animal.

"You're welcome," Knave snickered at her, then turned around. "Now, let's follow."

They did so, Knave and Nirra at Torri's sides, despite the fact that her sustained glares told them clearly they weren't welcome there. Finally, the moon elf just shrugged and pretended to be ignoring both of them. A least they were heading for an exit from this place... theoretically. The moon elf eyed the drow, and she almost wished he would betray them, only so that she could stab that back she was seeing.


	14. Chapter XIV

**Chapter Fourteen**

The direction they had been keeping was strictly western, and they had covered the distance quickly and efficiently with the drow's expert guidance. No more encounters had been had, save for a few aimless umber hulks, the fight giving Torri the perfect opportunity to make up for her previous failures and prove that she wasn't as worthless as she had appeared. The ring they had collected, which Nirra was wearing, proved very useful in that situation. Also, the drow soon turned out to be not only a fighter, but a quite skilled magic user as well.

Later, Solaufein stopped them at one point on the edge of a vast precipice, its depths reddened and steamy, which took them to the conclusion that magma lay somewhere below. The group took a few moments to catch their breaths, rest their feet and look around, the light offered by the current environment a welcome change to the surfacers.

"I would suggest that we now shift directions for a while," Solaufein began, the same professional way he had led them on this far.

"I'm sure you would know better," Knave replied diplomatically. The mage had taken the responsibility and lead of the three surfacers for a while, since Nirra wasn't the type to want it, and Torri had refused to speak to the drow anymore. He was doing quite a good job. "However, may we get an explanation of the reasons behind this?" he continued.

Solaufein nodded. "If we keep going west," he began, "we will run into some elven Temple ruins, which were bound to be guarded anyway, but there is a war going on, as you may be aware. The catacombs link the temple with the Underdark and..."

Knave nodded. "I see where it's going," he interjected. "The drow are bound to be using that course to go out."

"Yes," Solaufein confirmed promptly. "We must avoid that exit. I know another way, but we will need to go around the catacombs... which means winding a longer way to the southwest and then only a short bit to the northwest."

"We could always fight our way through, for an alternative," Torri muttered, having finally decided to interfere. She and Nirra had been listening carefully.

"No!" the gold elf was quick to oppose her friend. "We've had enough fighting, Torri. I can't even cast any more than two spells today, at most."

"Same here," Knave sustained her point, shaking his head. "No, we will take the longer path, as suggested." He quirked an eyebrow Torri's way, regarding her ironically. "However, though it's an interesting perspective, you're not chained to me... go on and fight if you're so eager."

The moon elf grumbled a few words, suddenly filled with such obvious and explainable love for her human companion, but they didn't need to clearly hear her decision to know what it was; they simply ignored her and started off in the new direction, away from the precipice. She followed begrudgingly, keeping an eye out for anything that might convince them to go the other way.

The following hours were spent in silence, save for the few times they needed to briefly consider their course again, and they saved their words even there. Finally, when they were all aching and weary, the dark began to grow thinner, in a way that was so familiar to the surfacers – daylight was close. If any of them – Torri, especially – might have still, somehow, illogically suspected Solaufein of leading them into any traps, that eroded the doubts completely.

The moon elf sighed with relief and took the lead completely, following the spiral corridor that wound upwards, and in moments she was standing by a crack in the wall, bathed in sunlight. A smile formed on her lips as she came out and reveled into the warm sensation, breathing the fresh outdoor air in deeply. The setting was that of a small plain, with a river crossing it nearby and a forest in sight to a direction that Torri thought to be the Northeast. Doubtlessly, some remote outskirt of Tethyr, quite close to the ocean.

Torri turned back to face, once again, what was no longer an exit, but an entrance for her, just in time to respond to Nirra's smile with one of her own, as the gold elf emerged from between the rocks. Knave followed shortly, and Torri's smile faded to allow the moon elf to glare at the mage and let him know she hadn't forgotten... things. The two shared most of Torri's relief to be out for a change and to know that they didn't have to leave the surface again, at least for a long time, if not necessarily forever.

Solaufein was the last to step out, and he did so testily, with exaggerated caution; only then did the party notice he had been preparing for such a trip, since he wasn't wearing or carrying any drow-made items, that would crumble into dust as soon as they saw the sun. His eyes closed almost instantly, blinded, and he could only reopen them, halfway through, when he looked at the ground and his long white hair fell along the lines of his face, casting some shadows. Tensely, he withdrew back to the semi-darkness of the cavern and continued to eye the surface world warily from there.

Nirra chuckled. "It's safe," she told the drow, soothingly, as she turned to plead with him. "I promise." That only made Torri roll her eyes at the familiarity she had already developed with him, though it was nothing unusual to see in Nirra.

"I wouldn't call it safe," Knave remarked. "But not for reasons too different from why the Underdark isn't safe."

Solaufein sought their eyes, trying to draw the courage to come out from their lack of concern, from their own comfort with the surface. However, what he could see when he looked up, before the sun blinded him again, was a huge azure surface, flat and stained with white here and there; it all seemed like it would want nothing more but to collapse upon him.

"That cannot be the moon, could it?" he asked disappointedly, pointing to the direction he had last seen the golden disk, while his head was turned the other way.

The two mages only exchanged quick glances and just couldn't hold back from laughing anymore.

"Don't be stupid," Torri scowled, displeased with the confusion of her beloved moon with the sun. "It's daytime.. the moon appears at night."

The drow looked relieved by the confirmation of what he had hoped to be true, while Knave was rolling his eyes and turning to give Torri a reproachful look. "You go live down there for a couple of centuries, and then we'll see if you remember," the human addressed her, sarcastically.

Meanwhile, Nirra had resumed her plea, but the drow was still unsure if he wanted to come out or not, still reluctant and afraid that there might be danger out there for him alone, things that didn't hurt them because they belonged, but would destroy one who did not. Of course, he did not say so, too proud to do that, but that was the impression nature, so colorful and noisy out there, made on him.

Torri eyed the scene amusedly, not gracing Knave's retort with an answer. Quickly, she turned away to hide the smirk forming on her lips; maybe she knew just how to draw the thing out. "You can rot in there for all I care," she said icily, composing a solemn expression to look at her two companions with. "Can we go now?" she continued in a bored and impatient fashion.

If Nirra's pleas hadn't been successful so far, the moon elf's arrogance instantly effected the proud drow. He glared at her for a split second, then stepped out, his remaining hesitation well hidden behind a mask of determination. Once in the light, he stood still and tense, almost ready to suffer an attack from somewhere or something invisible and unknown. When nothing happened, he did relax, but only a tiny bit.

"Fine," Torri sighed dramatically, trying her best to look disappointed by Solaufein's success, although she had amusedly inspired it on purpose. "NOW can we go?"

"Maybe you'd like to stay with us for a while?" the gold elf addressed the drow, and Knave nodded his approval, smirking Torri's way defiantly. The moon elf muttered something, but no one minded her.

"I..." Solaufein staggered uncertainly. "I didn't think you would have me."

"Well, we would," Knave shrugged. "Torri isn't entitled to any opinions but mine, so we're good." He chuckled, as the moon elf was rolling her eyes anew.

Nirra patted the drow's shoulder comfortingly as he thanked her, before turning away and coming to her friend's side. Knave soon joined them, and the three of them scoured the area, Torri for the second time, the others for the first. Suddenly and out of plain nowhere, the field darkened visibly, as if a curtain of faint shades had befallen it. Behind them, Solaufein startled and hurried to come closer to them for at least the illusion of safety.

"What. In the world. Was THAT?" Torri inquired, from no one and nothing in particular, one of her eyebrows rising as she pointed up at the suddenly cloud-filled sky.

"No idea," Knave looked about worriedly.

All of that only caused further distress to the drow, and Nirra, although alarmed herself, hurried to cling to his arm and pull him even closer to the others, assuring him that although unusual, such an event was not completely unlikely to occur.

"Yes, it is," Torri snapped, turning to contradict the gold elf. "Did you even look at these clouds? They seem... artificial. Magically conjured."

"Nothing of the sort, I'm sure," Knave gravely interrupted her, making his way over to Nirra, all in a fashion that suggested he knew something the moon elf didn't. "Can we please have a word in private?" he asked of the gold elf, imperatively.

For a moment, Nirra looked surprised, but when her eyes met the serious expression on the mage's face, there came a surprising spree of understanding, and she detached from the drow. The two of them began to walk away in the general direction of the forest.

"What?" Torri's jaw almost dropped in outrage. The next moment, however, insecurity got the best of her. "Wait! What is it that you haven't told me? ... Nirra?" she started off tentatively, attempting to follow the two.

Knave turned for a short moment, not halting his movement, and waved her off. "Nothing," he replied meaningfully. "For now."

Torri stopped halfway through her first step and set her foot back down. "You're NOT leaving me behind with the d..." she began to protest vehemently, but Knave's sustained look sent a shiver down her spine and caused her to bite her tongue and wince at the pain in an attempt to hold any other words back. Satisfied with that, the mage turned away again, and the discussion started animatedly.

"Just wonderful..." Torri muttered darkly, staring at their departing backs, conscious of the drow's presence behind her.

"I'm sure there must be a good reason why..." Solaufein began, trying to appease her to an extent.

"Shut up," she snapped, shaking her head. "Let's just follow." She started to do just that, but then paused and added some more, because of his reluctance to do as she had asked. "... At a safe distance, of course," she rolled her eyes with a substantial amount of contempt.

Only then, the drow moved to follow her, not without glaring first, for as long as the suddenly diminished quantity of light allowed him to. They walked at a slow pace, keeping the distance always and allowing the other two to lead the way, and they said nothing at all, due mostly to Torri's general hostility.

Nirra and Knave seemed to have much to talk about, and at least part of it was composed of pressing matters, for they looked worried and continued to glance around all the time. Soon, they reached the edge of the forest, and the moon elf could only wonder what the hell they still had to say to each other when they stopped there and sat on an outlying tree stump.

Solaufein came to a halt a few feet away from Torri's standing grim form, and shifted his weight uneasily. Obviously, something was troubling him, and the moon elf didn't fail to notice, though she pretended she hadn't.

"Why?" he finally decided to ask, all of a sudden. "The hatred... for the drow," he explained afterwards, when she turned and eyed him sharply.

Torri shrugged, studying him intently. "What else could I feel?" she dismissed her desire to just flip him off and ask to be left alone. "I have only scars from them... nothing good to change my opinion at all."

He sighed wearily, looking away. "I suppose I cannot blame you for anything."

The reaction caused Torri to flinch shortly, and she nervously began to dust off her shoulder plate, seeming to just then notice there was dried blood left atop of it. Indeed, she had not been expecting so much... understanding? She began to scrape the formerly-sticky substance away, much more concentrated on it than needed, so she didn't notice when Knave gestured for them to come over.

Solaufein cleared his throat, finally daring to interrupt her absorbed state of mind. "We should go," he pleaded. "They are done discussing."

"Ooh, the miracle happened," Torri snorted, and was much friendlier, though still warningly distant, when she went past him and headed off for the other two. He just followed, pretty content with that small result.

Once she was by the tree stump, Torri eyed both of her seated traveling companions gloomily, awaiting an explanation. When none came, she accentuated the request by placing a hand on her hip and raising an inquisitive eyebrow.

"All you need to know right now," Knave finally indulged to answer, "...is that we are in great danger."

Torri blinked, then promptly and mechanically turned to face Nirra, waiting for her to elaborate. Surely her friend wouldn't just leave her in the dark like that, worried and insecure.

The gold elf avoided her friend's gaze, and looked to Knave for support. The mage's stern expression seemed to have an immediate effect on her. "I am sorry," she murmured, then steadied herself to continue. "You'll have to wait until we reach Suldanessellar. Please."

"But..." Torri began, confused to no means of an end, but their mournful expressions stopped her from going on with her objection. "Fine," she concluded begrudgingly. "Have it your way."

Just then, to top it all, it began to rain with huge, heavy drops that fell to the ground clamorously. All of them were soaked in no time, along with everything else around.

Knave stood up, and looked around, apparently trying to form an idea of where they were. They had been walking to the northeast and now the forest stood tall, thick and close, almost inviting.

"In there," Knave pointed firmly.

"Great," the moon elf muttered. "If we're lucky, we can get struck by lightning."

"We should be able to find caves," the mage impatiently told her off. He headed away, and Nirra stood to follow immediately.

"Caves where?" Torri sarcastically combated him. "In trees, maybe?" That only brought her the amused smile of Solaufein, as the drow passed by her, and she hurried to tag along, since the others weren't waiting.

"No," Knave replied simply, without turning. "There should be a clearing nearby, with a huge rock in its center. That has been carved through by weather and forest creatures, as well as a pack of dwarves seeking some artifact."

"Typical," the moon elf snorted.

They kept on walking, soon in the growing darkness of the forest, where water hadn't properly come down to the ground yet, due to the thick curtain of branches and leaves above their heads. For that, at least, they were thankful.


	15. Chapter XV

**Chapter Fifteen**

Knave had said that, to his knowledge, it should be uninhabited and quite dry. Too tired, cold and soaked to question anything anymore, they all just entered the largest of the few caves delving into the huge rock that marked the clearing. Indeed, the mage had been right once more: the place, though dark and unwelcoming, was empty and quite warm compared to the storm outside. The constant rustling of raindrops falling to the ground had receded and was barely perceivable as an echo from far away.

A short descending corridor led them into a vast cavern with a bolted ceiling, so high above that it made one feel small and powerless. A few rocks of different sizes lay scattered about and some had been arranged in such a manner that they could serve as a table and chairs, while others had been clearly carved and polished into pedestal-like replacements for a bed. Stands had been attached to the walls here and there, but the torches were, naturally, missing. That didn't really matter anyway, since Knave had produced a small gem that shone and glimmered with a mixture of silver and gold; it was of svirfneblin or duergar make, he had said he didn't remember exactly. Once they were in, he simply placed it upon the tallest rock in the middle of the room.

Each of the four viewed the situation differently. While Solaufein was quite relieved to be in what he thought a sorry excuse for a tunnel and Knave was content to lie down on one of the stone beds, Nirra and Torri kept shifting from place to place and exchanging worried glances. The moon elf, especially, did not come to a halt until she had explored every single inch of the room and prodded at every dark corner with the tip of her sword, only to hit solid rock and nothing else.

"I guess we're safe," Torri concluded, when her eon of searching was over, sheathing the blade. She shrugged and turned around, eyeing a chair-shaped rock that was distinctly placed away from the rest and closest to the entrance. She flopped seated there, accompanied by the heavy clanking of armor against stone, and attempted to look comfortable. "The first watch is mine," she announced. "All of you better get some sleep."

Nirra and Solaufein didn't seem to have anything against that; the gold elf just resigned and tested another of the wanna-be beds, then reluctantly claimed it as her own, while the drow just sat on the floor, his back against the table-rock. Knave, however, raised his head to look at the moon elf with a quirked eyebrow. "May I know," he began on a sarcastically polite tone, "what exactly has caused such an unexpected display of generosity from your part?"

"You all have a repertoire of spells to refresh," she noted coldly, glaring at him.

"Fair enough," he shrugged, and his head fell back carelessly; he seemed to be quite comfortable there. "After all, why would I complain? I get the sleep, you get the guard duties."

No one minded his useless ironical musings anymore, though Torri continued to glare for a while, until she finally remembered he wasn't looking anymore, and it had turned into staring from her part. Sighing, she sank deeper into her uncomfortable seat, and her eyes drifted from the human to Nirra, then to Solaufein. All had done exactly what she had said and were trying to get some sleep.

This was as good a moment as any, she reasoned, for a bit of insight, for her to put some order amidst her scattered thoughts. With the next few hours free of any attention-consuming activity, the moon elf was granted more than enough time to study each of them in part.

She began with her old friend, Nirra, and a smile simply found its way to her lips as she regarded the slim, fragile frame with bronze-colored skin and blue robes. Physically, the gold elf was as Torri remembered her; she had surely known a younger version of Nirra, but that had quite slipped out of her memory after all those other long years had passed. Indeed, the two of them went far back, all the way into a past that was barely a clouded, hazy memory for Torri.

They were so different, and complemented each other in many ways – maybe that was exactly the reason they had become so inseparable. It would have been expected of Nirra, as a gold elf, to develop that sense of superiority, and that will to draw a clear line between herself and others; instead, it had been Torri who displayed it, while her friend merely attempted to suffocate it by befriending as many representatives of other races as possible, which was what moon elves normally did. It was an enigma they had given little thought to and had attempted to explain on only a few occasions, but nothing conclusive had been established about it. By herself, though, the moon elf had often given special attention to the way Nirra seemed to so swiftly establish connections with everything that was alive; not just a few had been the times when Torri wondered why her friend hadn't become a ranger or something of the sort. The only conclusion she had reached was that she envied this gift her friend had, and wished she would possess an inborn talent like that, too.

The fondness for traveling, though, was another business; it was a native trait, not one induced by society, and it had been functioning correctly for the most part, with Torri being the one always on the move. Of course, in time it had passed on to Nirra, to some extent, but the moon elf was still the one by far more adventurous and restless between the two. It was always her who urged for a new departure, towards new lands, to try out new things. And still, the gold elf never failed to follow.

Torri averted her eyes before they began to build up tears, welled inside the pool of so many memories and ready to spill – the moon elf hadn't cried in good long years, and she was not about to start now, no matter the reason.

Switching to Knave had an instant effect on Torri, as her features contorted into a scowl, and she rolled her eyes contemptuously. She didn't really want to go over the short period the human had been with them.

Torri was a very proud individual, and Knave had more than once outsmarted her and managed to get on her nerves. However, from a more objective point of view, the moon elf couldn't deny that the human had been a useful asset during their journey, with all his knowledge and skills. Added to that came the fact that he seemed to enjoy traveling as much as she did, seemed not to rest in one place any more than she herself would manage to.

Undeniably, despite all of her attempts to bear him a grudge, Torri had developed a certain degree of fondness for the mage, although it was a long way from anything stable and important. It was getting a bit difficult not to smile when he joked, though, or to compose a sober and exasperated expression when he was trying to get on her nerves. If anything, he was a good entertainer, and there was something roguish about him that simply made the name he bore fit in perfectly; in his case, Torri wondered why he wasn't a bard, preforming here and there for the pleasure of an audience.

Then, – she moved on along with a new drift of her gaze – there was the newest addition to their small group, the drow. Useful as a fighter, Torri had to give him credit for that, and able to place a quick spell at just the right moment, too. Still, he belonged to a race that she would have loved to see extinct, gone from the face of Toril and from below it as well. _At least in this case I'm not wondering about his chosen profession,_ the moon elf thought to herself, unable to contain a smirk. She couldn't keep the prejudicial hate in check, though, as much as she had given it a try. Its past was longer than even that of her friendship with Nirra.

There had been a time when curiosity surpassed all else in the heart and mind of a very young moon elf named Toreen... a time when the race of elven exiles was exerting a strange fascination upon her. She had foolishly defied all warnings from friends and kin, and she'd gone to see for herself, to discover the truth about the drow. They had not only proven ALL of the 'prejudice' to be true, but they had also forced the youthful spirit into maturity way before its time had come to do so. Deeply scarred by her experience with the drow, Torri had never been the same again after emerging from the Underdark for the first time in her life. One found it quite difficult to return to games and celebrations after they had suffered so much and seen death only a step away.

And that was where the hate had begun, a feeling she had embraced willingly, because it saved her the trouble of properly remembering all they had done to her. To build up that strong black feeling she needed only to recall a general idea, and the details she so dreaded could be buried without trouble. The hate would have consumed Torri completely, it would have ended up masterfully carving an abyss between her and her own people, if not for Nirra. The moon elf owed her friend some important lessons; the gold elf had been more than patient with Torri while helping her overcome the most part of the darkness within.

And still, there had always been this significant part Nirra could do nothing about. Torri couldn't help but wonder, as she looked at Solaufein's sleeping form and faltered in her determination to hate him – was this drow meant to finally put an end to that? Maybe she could watch him and finally begin to let go of those remnants of bitterness and hard feelings.

The moon elf scowled at her own weakness, and steeled herself again, averting her eyes from any of her companions. Her head came to rest against stone, her gaze lost in the far-away spot of light marking the exit, at the end of the tunnel.

That was still her state when, unknowingly, she fell asleep.

* * *

A loud, rumbling crash awoke Torri from her slumber, and she clumsily scuttled to her feet, alert and looking around. It was dark, though, with Knave's magical gem gone or its reserves depleted, she couldn't possibly know. However, this was a far milder darkness than that of the Underdark, and her infravision worked just fine. Apart from the drow, who had just woken up himself and was as confusedly looking around as she was, there was no one in the room.

A sudden, but terrible quake shook the ground and Torri staggered clumsily, then slipped and fell to her side. It was over with in just a few seconds; quickly, she stumbled back into a standing position, and was just about to turn and consult with the drow, when something distracted her. The moon elf swallowed tightly, when she noticed that there was no more light at the end of the tunnel.

Also, the form approaching her, Knave's, distressed her even more, since the human was carrying a limp, unconscious Nirra, and his own face and arms were just as bruised as the gold elf's own. Suddenly, light flashed again, when the small gemstone came out of his pocket and began to levitate in his wake.

"What happened?" Torri demanded of him, hurrying to his side. She checked on Nirra's pulse, but her friend was alive.

"We've been ambushed," was his only short reply, and he then stalked right past her, to post himself in front of Solaufein. "I've seen you use a Dimension Door in our battle with the umber hulks," he addressed the drow. "Can you do so again?"

"Yes," he received the reply he'd been hoping for.

Meanwhile, Torri had followed closely, and was listening with as much attention as she could muster, considering all that troubled her. "What happened?" she demanded again, more imperative this time, even as her firm hand came to rest upon the mage's shoulder, and her fingers clutched firmly.

"Don't be stupid," the human shook her off dismissively. "I have other things to worry about than your requests for an answer."

"What do you require me to do?" Solaufein intervened quietly, bringing the mage back to the point and saving him from any further trouble with Torri, for the time being.

"There is a small clearing northeast of here, with a river crossing it," Knave replied hurriedly. "Try to picture it as best you can, and use your magic to reach it; the exit has been sealed off... it has... erm... collapsed." Recovering quickly from his attempt at omitting details from the explanation, the mage turned his head to regard Torri. "Take my darling little nuisance here with you, if you can," he continued sternly, if a bit ironical, referring to none other than the moon elf. "I will join you shortly, and bring Nirra."

Torri blinked, and for a few moments failed to yet realize it wasn't a joke. "I'm not going anywhere before you've expla..." she finally began, but came to a halt when the blue, fogged light began to spiral and surround her, quickly forming the usual circle and its interior patterns. Before she could even move again, the cave's image started to fade from view... the void spun about her for a few seconds, then it all cleared out again, and she found herself some place else, blue sparks dissipating all around.

"This is NO clearing," she spun about to face the drow, her eyes flashing sharply as she batted leaves away from her face. Indeed, all that surrounded her was a thick mass of trees, an ensemble of branches and bushes that made any attempt at following a straight path futile.

He shrugged apologetically. "Dimension Door usually fails to take you to the exact location, if you don't know exactly where you're going," he began to offer an explanation. "We should be pretty close to the actual destination, though... theoretically."

"Theoretically," she rolled her eyes, mock-imitating his own tone. "Why, I wonder, wasn't that reassuring?"

"Because you always fail to look at things from a hopeful perspective?" he offered with a small grin.

"Right..." Torri waved him off, mimicking total exasperation. Her eyes began to scour the area quickly, trying to find something even remotely resembling a place where bipedal beings had stepped in the past couple of months, at least. That only caused her distress to grow, since there seemed to be none.

"The hard way?" Solaufein inquired, drawing his sword and slashing his first step through in a random direction.

"How do you know that's the right..." Torri began, only to be interrupted.

"I don't," he shrugged.

"Wait!" the moon elf stammered, shaken by the utter realization that they, indeed, could not find their way to the clearing, and even less so if he just picked the first direction offered to him. "Stop!"

The drow, however, had no intention of doing what she had asked him to, and she was forced to follow when he gained enough of an advantage to seem as if she would lose him. Unsheathing her own swords in a tangled hurry, she messily began slashing and chopping her own way through the wild hedge, right behind him, muttering something about 'mindless drow' in the process.


	16. Chapter XVI

_I would have a small mention to make, regarding the bit of elven language about to be used in this chapter, and probably many more to come._

_There is currently no Forgotten Realms translator to suit my needs; the few that exist are not complex enough to support more than strictly basic language. Given that fact, I have used Grey Company resources, since at least its origins lie in the Realms, although it has extended to other things._

_I'm composing the phrases myself, by abiding to the grammar rules found there, but it's my first real attempt to do so and I might have gotten things wrong. Kindly tell me so if that is the case. Thank you._

* * *

**Chapter Sixteen**

Torri's arms were already tired and aching by the time the tangle of bushes began to rarefy, and her armor, no matter how light, was still metal and starting to feel like it. Night was almost upon them and there had been no other signs of any possible clearing than this newly begun thinning of the hedge they'd been hacking through. And even that could mean anything else than that they were actually approaching the clearing.

Which it did. The only thing they found themselves facing was a rocky canyon, running through the forest like a deep, barren gash, as old as the world itself. Nothing even remotely green grew along its edges, or anywhere closer than about twenty feet from it, for that matter. Looking to the left and right, they discovered its ends, but both were very far away; the forest continued on all other sides, but there were no means to secure passage across, unless they could miraculously grow wings and fly.

Torri was a bit more cautious – or perhaps less used to precipices – than Solaufein, and she stopped a little bit behind the drow, placing her hands on her hips and pursing her lips contemplatively. "What now, Master Pathfinder?" she asked, her obvious sarcasm sharp and taunting.

"Your comments are not doing anything in the way of help, either," he pointed out calmly, still studying the edges and walls, and trying to determine the canyon's exact depth.

"Maybe," the moon elf admitted, a malicious smirk coming to life on her lips. "But at least they amuse me?"

"And also place you in no position to speak about MY inefficiency," he combated that new reply, totally unaffected. "At least I am -trying- to do something." He was growing quite used to her hostilities and had resorted to a general state of resigned boredom.

Torri grumbled. Somewhere in the back of her head she knew he was right, and she knew she should probably be doing something else than picking on him. But she just couldn't restrain herself. "Whatever," she rolled her eyes, deciding to pick up the mantle of leader. "I'll go scout up along the edge, to the left. You take the right path, and we'll meet back here to exchange opinions."

Solaufein nodded his agreement and they both started off in their given direction, pledging their devotion to the task at hand.

Torri concentrated on the forest, rather than the canyon, because she didn't think much would come out of her scouting a barren crack in the ground, no matter how big it was. Except for the wind rustling in the leaves, it was unusually silent, but she attributed that to the approaching nightfall, which sent most of the day birds, insects and animals to sleep, while the nightlife was not awake yet.

After walking a good portion of ground, the only realization she had come to was that nothing at all was to be found there, except the same narrow path framed by trees on one side and a would-be abyss on the other. She wasn't a ranger, but she would have made out at least some of the more recent tracks, had there actually been any, but there weren't. She didn't know whether that should trouble or appease her, but the only logical decision for her to come to in any of the cases was that of returning for the drow, so she promptly followed that course.

Caution struck her immediately upon the sight of his distant figure, who was no longer alone, but had a rather hostile companion. Even from where she was, Torri could distinctly make out the archer, his bow strung and ready with an arrow tip aimed at the drow. _I couldn't care less if the stranger kills him,_ she tried to convince herself. The involuntary realization that it was not the truth only made her hurry along. Apparently, the two figures were still parleying and not attacking, but she couldn't know for how long.

"Hold," she requested, gesturing to the archer, who was the one facing her out of the two, as soon as she got close enough to be noticed and heard clearly.

She took a good look at this new 'element' in the whole picture of the situation she was in. The archer was a wood elf, by all appearance, which didn't surprise Torri in the least, given that they were in the Forest of Tethyr. His features – especially the blond hair and blue eyes – were quite rare for one of his kind, though, except for the mild copper tint of his skin, which was the exact detail giving him out for what he actually was. Also, his slightly stronger and taller build, though still not comparable to that of a human, was specific to the forest-dwelling subrace of elf.

The archer was just preparing to say something to the tense and unmoving Solaufein, when Torri's call caused him to finally notice the moon elf had gotten that close. He regarded her suspiciously, even as she was stopping at the drow's side, but nevertheless lowered the bow a little, granting his muscles some amount of relaxation.

"Amin ilnae duilien ele Teu'Tel'Quessir (I was not expecting to see a moon elf)," he confessed, his previous assumptions obviously contradicted by her appearance.

Torri sighed, shaking her head as she cast a side glance to Solaufein. "As much as I enjoy the sound of my native language," she began tentatively, "I would ask of you to speak Common."

After a half-glare at the drow, his suspicion rising anew, the wood elf reluctantly nodded his agreement and concentrated on Torri, though he obviously remained ready to shoot his arrow, should Solaufein move.

"Thank you," the drow addressed Torri shortly, expressing his gratitude, which remained apparently unnoticed as the moon elf thought.

"The drow is my c... one of my companions," she finally spoke, testing the ground. "He will not attack when you lower your guard."

"I see," the wood elf sighed his acceptance out heavily, though he still glanced at Solaufein begrudgingly. "I apologize." His arms relaxed completely, and the bow came down in one hand, the arrow in the other, with a swiftness that could hardly be tracked by the eye. "I thought he was the scout for a war party."

"Your caution is understandable," Torri interjected before Solaufein could, her tone rising slightly to point out just that simple fact to him – he should remain silent for the time being.

"I have forgotten all courtesy," the archer shook his head and offered an apologetic smile. Then, stepping closer and holding out a hand to the moon elf, he continued, "My name is Ivendil Adai'riel." Concurrently, he nodded briefly to the drow.

"I am Toreen of Sareil," she replied, taking his hand and shaking it firmly, for a short moment, her eyes never leaving his bright features. "And this is Solaufein." A small gesture pointed out the cause of the archer's still obvious distress.

"It is a pleasure meeting you..." he hesitated, "...both. But the situation would require that I ask about your reason to be here at the moment."

"I wasn't aware we nee..." Torri bit her tongue to stop the first reply. "My apologies. Ah... we are lost," she admitted finally.

One of the archer's brows came up in a fine line as he eyed her amusedly. "That still doesn't motivate your presence," he noted. "But I may be of use. Where exactly is it that you should be?"

"Me and my gold elven companion, who is not present at the moment, as you can see, were heading for Suldanessellar," Torri punctuated firmly. "However, disturbances have... abated us from the original course, and we've also gained... other companions. That is not the point here."

"Go on," Ivendil bid her when he saw she had stopped, the amusement not gone from his features.

"I...," she stammered, looking for a proper way to put things and make them less embarrassing. "I am afraid that our magical means of transport... failed in a way, and we don't know the area. We should, supposedly, be getting to a clearing, northeast of this... rock... with caves... err... a clearing with a river crossing it." She almost felt the need to smack herself when the entire phrase didn't come out as intended at all.

The wood elf held back a small chuckle, and shook his head, obviously quite entertained there. "I know of that clearing," he spoke softly, smiling to the moon elf in a much too sympathetic and superior way for her liking. "In fact, I have just come from there. My own companion is a mage; moon elven, like yourself. I left him camped there so that I could do some scouting."

Torri cleared her throat, realizing that the confused and insecure expression on her face probably did nothing to help the impression she had made. A great interior effort steeled her features into a stone-cold sober composure. "I don't suppose you would mind if we tagged along on your way back, then?" she inquired, trying to remain polite and distant.

"... No," Ivendil shrugged, only after eyeing Solaufein once more.

That only caused the drow to shift impatiently and roll his eyes with sheer exasperation at the charade not being over yet. "I am not a monument to be admired," he pointed out.

"Can we just be off?" Torri urged, not liking the new exchange of glares the two were sharing right before her helpless self.

"Of course," Ivendil nodded politely and turned, with a courteous half-bow to her. "This way," he continued, pointing back into the forest, in a direction pretty much the same as the one they had come from, if a bit more northerly. Then, he started away.

"I just have to praise your orientation," Torri remarked sarcastically, addressing Solaufein, as they followed.

"I told you I did not know where we were going, to begin with," the drow replied, the exasperation not having left him.

Torri rolled her eyes, and hurried to catch up with the wood elven archer, who had already found a path decent enough to allow passage without a sword to hack through the bushes at hand. Solaufein followed, a bit less enthusiastic about the whole thing, but still relieved, for several reasons.

"Who are your 'other companions'?" Ivendil inquired from the moon elf, while his eyes drifted from one tree to the other, attentively searching for marks he knew.

"A human and a gold elf, both mages, like your own companion," Torri replied, attempting to follow the row of his glances at first; she gave up soon, his experience and familiarity with the forest making it too difficult.

"Your party is... odd, to say the least," he remarked dryly.

"Well, at first it was just Nirra and me, but..." Torri explained, only to be interrupted by his sudden flinch.

"Nirra?" he asked, his face brightening as he came to an abrupt halt and spun on his heels to face her.

That caused both Torri and Solaufein to startle and stop before they bumped into each other, and consequently the wood elf. "Err... Nehera Erenlin, my gold elven friend," the moon elf replied, arching an eyebrow.

"I know her," Ivendil confessed with a fond smile. "You must be her Torri, then. I apologize... she spoke of you often, but never told me the full name."

"Must have been that one single time we've been apart for longer than a couple of days," the moon elf reasoned, then just shrugged that unimportant matter aside.

"Her friends are my friends," Ivendil bowed most respectfully, which only served to further take the already stunned Torri aback.

"A courtesy I will not take lightly," she assured, as formalities required, though a new spree of indefinite quick blinking was necessary to express her surprise.

"I am glad to see you have common friends," Solaufein interfered from behind the moon elf, shifting uneasily. "However, can we hurry along? I... sense danger at hand."

Ivendil nodded, his glee fading away immediately to be replaced by grim determination. "I do, as well," he admitted. "Let us be off."

They resumed their short-winded journey, which had been made much easier by the archer's knowledge of the wild forest. The order remained the same in their short line.

"What... kind of danger?" Torri asked, glancing about.

"I've sighted a large group of humans in the region," Ivendil replied hurriedly, eager to have his attention get back to their surroundings alone.

"Humans?" Torri pressed on, hoping he would give out more.

"Mostly Priests of Talos," the archer satisfied her curiosity furthermore, but dismissively so.

The moon elf startled and fell silent, after exchanging a small, meaningful look with Solaufein. The drow couldn't possibly know, but Talos was the God of Storms and Lightning, if she had things correctly, which could only explain the unusual weather that had stranded them... but she couldn't know anything else. She remembered Knave's strange behavior, and the concern Nirra shared with the human. Some questioning would be done soon, and imperatively so.


	17. Chapter XVII

**Chapter Seventeen**

Knave blinked a little to get reaccustomed to daylight; fading as it was with the evening approaching, its brightness still surpassed that of whatever artificial amount the magical gemstone could offer. The small object didn't even strike the eye as visible out there, and it just turned itself off, much like a glow-worm would, and sneaked back in his pocket. The mage's first capable glance was given to Nirra, whom he still held cradled in his arms, carrying her hardly a problem for the human, given her light elven build, even despite the fact that his own make wasn't as muscular and fit as another's might have been. The gold elf remained as unconscious as she could get, much to the human's dislike.

His exactly calculated Dimension Door had teleported the both of them at the precise edge of the clearing, just between the trees of the last row before the forest fell back to a small patch of grass-covered ground. Truly, the portion of sky above would have been a pleasant sight to the eye of a weary traveler, after so many steps taken in the shadows of thick foliage.

As the mage stepped in, most of the tall, healthy grass withdrew, but a few blades were still flattened to the fertile soil below, not that he paid any heed to such unavoidable and expendable 'victims'. His eyes were focused and alertly scanning for any signs of Torri and Solaufein.

There were none. Instead, all he got was the gloomy figure of a man, elven by all appearance, who had slumped seated in mid-clearing, just by the river, and was looking at the ground below, as still as the wind drifting through the long strands of dark chocolaty hair allowed him to be. That way, his face was almost completely obscured to Knave's view, and all he could really distinguish was the purple color of heavy robe-folds draping the rest of his form. If one thing could be clearly pointed out about this unexpected presence, then it was that he looked as if the end of the world had materialized only two steps away to talk to him and he was just listening resignedly.

Deciding that nothing looked dangerous, the human approached curiously, his every light step measured to the finest of extents; the elf didn't seem to notice him at all and just continued to hold still in his exact spot, his hands brought together in his lap. Knave had to make an effort not to allow the bemused grin he felt building up to surface just yet. Clearing his throat to draw attention, the mage took to stopping near a rock, quite close to the morose figure, so he could gently place Nirra down in the grass, back nestled into the solid stone surface. Once he had returned to his full height, the human looked once more at the other man, who had vaguely risen his head to regard him uninterestedly, without one single trace of surprise.

"Greetings?" Knave began testily, something of his hidden amusement still managing to slip into the tone of his voice.

The elf sighed heavily and returned his intently emotion-drained gaze to the ground. "Eh. It wouldn't surprise me if whatever hurt your friend came stalking right after you in a minute and killed us all," he remarked, and just shrugged, as if he had been expecting the mentioned potential occurrence for his entire life. His voice was devoid of anything positive and hopeful, reduced to a combination of all negative and pessimistic expectations Knave could think of. Strangely, the perceptive human found that intriguing.

" ... " Knave looked a bit taken aback at first, trying to word out something he hadn't quite defined in his own mind. Recomposing quickly, he flashed a semi-confident smile. " I assure you that 'whatever hurt my friend' is in no shape to do so, at the moment," he replied, on a matching tone.

A long moment of silence was expended by both of them. Finally, the purple-robed figure's eyes went to the unconscious Nirra. "Is her condition critical?" he asked, in a way that made him look almost certain the answer would be that there was no hope for the gold elf to ever recover again.

Knave quirked an eyebrow, the so-far contained grin surfacing now of its own accord. "No," he replied, shaking his head slightly. "A healing potion and some rest should restore her completely, but I haven't had the time to tend to her yet."

"Ah," the elf seemed quite surprised, but nothing else – no relief, no disappointment, nothing but a neutral state of 'whatever'. "I guess she'll live a bit more than I originally thought, then."

"A bit?" Knave could barely stifle a chuckle.

"Yes," the other one nodded vaguely. "I'm sure there will be plenty of opportunities for her to die tomorrow, or the other day, or the one after that."

"That is... an interesting perspective," the human noted, not without sarcasm. "You will excuse me if I stick to my own, though. I would wager she'll live for quite some more good decades, in the least."

"We're all doomed," the elf announced solemnly, and something told Knave he was quite fond of that... prediction. "Any attempt to avoid that is pointless."

"I see," the human shifted, every desire of finding out who this elf was having fled him in the favor of other concerns he had suddenly remembered by looking back to Nirra. The mage knelt on the ground at her side, pulling out a crude diminutive bottle made of bluish glass, all too familiar to adventurers and known as a common healing potion. "Tell me," he continued, absently, "what exactly is it you're doing here, all alone in mid-forest?" Even as he spoke, he pulled out the bottle's cork and held the gold elf's head up carefully with one hand, while the other brought the glass to her lips, parting them with ease. Soon, he had successfully poured the beneficial liquid into her mouth and urged it down her throat expertly.

"I am probably lost," the elf answered, meanwhile. "My companion was the one who knew the way, but since he has not returned from his 'scouting', I could assume that..."

"I get the point," Knave interrupted, standing back up and attempting to imitate part of the other's graveness. "He has abandoned you, he was killed, captured, tortured. Yeah. Sure."

"I... hadn't considered the abandoning possibility," the purple-robed elf mused, adopting the new perspective immediately, though the human had most obviously been mocking him. "Thank you for pointing that out."

"At any rate," Knave nodded politely, repressing his first impulse – that of sobering up in order to start lecturing the elf about the absolute uselessness of his acute pessimism. "Have you seen a rather odd pair around here? Say... a moon elf and a drow, to be more specific."

The elf's eyes widened slightly and he almost gasped – which, oddly enough, worked in the way of comforting Knave; at least there WAS still emotion in there somewhere. He raised his head more abruptly this time, the hair finally brushing away to uncover his face as he stared straight at the human. His features were delicate and elegant, like those of any elf, but the gloom was not even beginning to fade from them, and dark areas had quite began to shape up under his eyes, revealing how tired he was. _Maybe he fears death will come when he's asleep and he'll miss it,_ Knave thought to himself, biting back another chuckle.

"No," the elf replied and shook his head quite frantically, at a loss, and obviously more than a little distressed by the perspective. "Your drow has probably killed my kin..."

"Or vice versa, more likely," Knave snickered, interrupting on a casual tone. "She's quite fond of him, you know."

His interlocutor's eyebrow came up slightly, forming the beginning of a fine arc, and he regarded the human mage awkwardly for a few moments, but said nothing. Then, he just shrugged, and slumped back into his former derelict self. "Whoever has died, we will be joining them soon," he remarked, certain of that. "Those Talassans are bound to find us soon enough."

"You've seen the Talassans?" Knave shifted visibly, and cast a few careful glances about. "I'm surprised you weren't wary of me when I approached, given the fact that I'm human. I would have at least been suspicious, had I been in your stead."

"What was the point?" the elf replied, his wall of depression back to its full capacity. "I am a doomed man, anyway."

"Nevertheless," Knave rolled his eyes, his sudden need to be serious making him less patient to the other's dark moods, "it should be fair that I warn you: I am not with the Talassans, but they are after ... well, my friend here." He pointed to Nirra.

Coincidentally, the gold elf happened to stir a little just then, and her eyes blinked open in a slow, sleep-dazed process. She stretched, with a light wince, and as her senses returned she began to look around her. In the end, she dismally sat up, fear contorting her features, only to calm down gradually when she realized where she was. She looked up at Knave, not noticing the gloomy elf he had been talking to just yet.

"Welcome back," the human mage grinned coyly. "Our friend here seemed intent on thinking that you were 'doomed'. Just like the rest of us, for that matter."

Nirra blinked in confusion then cast glances about once more, this time managing to notice the stranger, who, despite his moroseness, had shifted a little to regard her intently.

"I am fine," the gold elf smiled meekly, then looked at her own arms and the many bruises they still displayed; the potion had healed the more serious injuries, and had lost its power before it could affect those small insignificant stains on her bronze-colored skin.

"I've managed to lose Torri and Solaufein," Knave let her know quite promptly. None of them noticed the purple-robed man perk up slightly at the mention of the moon elf. "Or, more likely, they've lost themselv..."

"Toreen?" came the interruption, in the clumsy form of the elf's insecure question, as he stared at Knave in disbelief.

Both Nirra and the human mage turned to regard him curiously at the same time; then they exchanged a short glance, before returning to him once more. "You know Torri?" the gold elf asked, quite surprised.

"I know a 'Toreen' who is sometimes called that," he admitted, and the others were suddenly certain he had already given up the hope that it might be the same person.

"My friend's name is Toreen of Sareil," Nirra detailed inquiringly.

For a moment, the other elf's face brightened as he nodded, but then he sank back into hopeless lament. "Something bad has undoubtedly happened to her," he convinced himself immediately.

"I should hope not," Nirra looked distressed, struggling to her feet. Knave came to her aid promptly, and supported her through, until she could stand on her own. _Don't mind him,_ the mage whispered to the gold elf.

"Hope?" the man shrugged, letting out another sigh. "It only ensures that when you do fall, it hurts worse."

"Has something happened to you?" Nirra cast him a look full of concern. "Maybe we can help."

"Except everything?" he replied resignedly, brushing that matter aside with a hand jest in order to take care of another. "Listen. My companion isn't returning. Yours aren't either. We could just as well leave while WE still have the chance to return to anything." He pushed himself away from the ground, coming to stand in a swift move that caused the robes' heavy folds to shift awkwardly behind and then around him as they gathered. Somehow, even that simple move looked full of despair.

"I agree on the leaving part," Knave interfered. "We would be an easy target for the Talassans in here. We need the cover of trees."

"The Talassans," Nirra seemed to remember, and fear returned to her, flooding her features. She looked to the human for any comfort, and he attempted a smile. "Knave..." she shook her head. "What if they've run into Torri? ... And the drow. That might explain why they're not here."

"I doubt it," the mage hurried to reassure her. "I think Solaufein's lack of knowledge about the area caused his magic to not work properly. He and Torri should be nearby, but I cannot begin to guess where exactly."

"We could walk the entire forest in search of them," the forgotten purple-robed figure offered sarcastically. "But I'm sure we would be lucky enough to find the Talassans instead."

"We have to walk the forest anyway," Knave remarked dryly. The other's only response was a shrug. "Let us move," the human then continued. "Hopefully, Torri and Solaufein are close and we can pick up their track."

He turned to leave, in a north-eastern direction, already too caught in his study of the forest to notice the figures entering the clearing from the other side. Nirra and the other elf, however, didn't fail to see the exact moment they emerged from the shadows of trees, and they both startled.

* * *

**Author's Note:**_ I'd like to mention that my Xan is not based on the mods in the least bit, but much more rather on the first image I formed of him, long before I even knew what 'mod' meant. I have my own impression of the NPC, based on mostly his selection sounds and other things like that... in other words, the little official content there is to him._

_I know this MAY be a bit unnerving and uncomfortable for those of you who have played through the mods, because they are AMAZING and definitely make a strong impression on players. But any attempt at combining the two views causes me to screw up on him, so I preferred to use a clean slate. Plus, the BG2 part of the mod didn't fit in with how he was here and all, so I would have had to ignore it anyway._


	18. Chapter XVIII

**Chapter Eighteen**

Ivendil came to a sudden halt, an arrow ready to be fired from his bow yet again, as he stood tensely in the space between two trees. He was looking straight ahead, but those behind him could make out too little of what he was seeing, especially with the thought-clouded Torri almost running headfirst into him. Eventually, both her and Solaufein managed to stop in time.

"What happened?" the moon elf hissed a question, glaring at the archer's back for a moment before trying to peek over his shoulder.

"There are... people ahead," he replied, his whisper coming to blend in with the forest perfectly – not so surprising for a wood elf in his element.

"People?" Solaufein put in with quite a bit of contempt and a raised eyebrow.

"You identify them, if you're as superior as you think," the archer snapped, his head turning a little so that he could exchange visual daggers with the drow.

Torri rolled her eyes and scowled with the full extent of exasperation, trying to discard how amusing the thought of them actually forming a 'party' was. "Does this look like the time to argue?" she imposed on both, straightening herself to compensate for her disadvantage in height as best she could.

"No," both gave in, only so each of them could look equally distressed by the fact that they had agreed on something.

During their stroll through the forest, Ivendil at the lead, the two men had done nothing but demonstrate not only that they couldn't stand each other, but also their unwillingness to even try and get along. All kinds of offensive remarks had been passed back and forth; all had made for a very stressed Torri, caught up between two figures she would have equally enjoyed to punch unconscious.

Now, they only resumed glaring at each other pointlessly, and the moon elf had to sigh. "I'm beginning to miss Knave," she noted, muttering, then began to stalk past Ivendil to check the 'people' herself.

The archer discarded his prepared shot for the moment promptly, freeing up a hand to all-too-unceremoniously stop the moon elf's advance and hold her in place. "My task," he motivated coolly. For a moment, they silently defied each other, until Torri had to shrug begrudgingly and admit to the logic that he was more suited for scouting out other parties than she was.

Once that dispute was settled, Ivendil let go of her and she withdrew to Solaufein's side, while the archer was stringing his bow ready again. Slowly, the wood elf advanced; so good he was at concealing his presence that soon they lost him from sight among the trees, despite the fact that they had been looking all along. The both of them tried to spot the people he had mentioned by themselves, but they could hardly make out anything but trees and bushes. They gave up, relying on the archer's skills.

He returned sooner than expected, coming out from behind a bush, a move so silent and unnoticeable that it caused Torri to startle when she finally took note of him by her side; the moon elf leaped back a few steps, ready for combat. Calming down, though not completely due to a certain superior smile on the wood elf's lips, she only mirrored Solaufein's questioning look and expectance of an answer.

"It is as I feared," Ivendil shared his knowledge, suddenly grave and serious. "The Priests of Talos."

"Shouldn't we be able to go around them and continue on our way?" Solaufein asked, eyeing the archer distrustfully.

"We should," he nodded, his eyes fixed on a branch right above Torri's head. That caused the moon elf to instinctively turn at the proper angle to see whatever he had spotted there. "Are human clerics able to summon familiars, like mages do?" the wood elf asked her, obviously considering that she should have come across such information in her travels.

Torri narrowed her eyes, regarding the raven perched up comfortably on the branch. Indeed, it was odd that the bird should be there at that time, and it looked too intelligent and attentive anyway. Its own little round eyes stared back at the moon elf and it squawked agitatedly, flipping its wings slightly. "No," the Torri shook her head, moving away to Ivendil's side. "Though... is anyone else feeling as if it's spying on us for someone?" Her answer came as nods from both of the men.

All three elves stood there silently for a few moments, eyeing the strange bird and not knowing what to make of it; Solaufein least of all. "What does it want...?" Torri asked, unsure if Ivendil actually was a ranger, or just an archer supplying into the scout function with his affinity for woods.

"It's watching," he replied, sure of what he was saying. "More than that, I cannot tell, but it is definitely watching us with interest." At least that cleared the ranger part up.

"Surely if the priests could see through its eyes," Solaufein interfered, "they'd be hurrying this way right now?"

"Good point," Ivendil had to admit. "I would hear them if they were doing so, and that isn't the case."

"Then what?" Torri snapped, irascibly. "Who's tool is it?"

"Could you please stop behaving like a dwarf?" Ivendil admonished her severely, which only caused her to mumble something incoherent.

The mutual staring continued, and it was quite amusing to see the three there, all distressed and grave, while the raven they were studying so intensely seemed comfortable and careless. It often broke eye contact to pick at its feathers and clean them with its beak most naturally, but eventually it still ended up looking at them again; Torri could have sworn it was grinning, in an odd bird-like way.

What broke the tense moments was a small cracking sound to the left, that of a twig snapping under someone's weight. Even Solaufein, who was visiting a forest for the first time in his life, had heard enough twigs snap during their own stroll and could recognize it for what it was. They all cast concerned glances at each other and tensed, hands ready at the hilts or handles of their weapons. It seemed to be a solitary being that approached.

In the end, what came out from between the trees was a big wolf, though most certainly it was no simple one. Its fur was thick and long, so healthy that it made them consider the possibility of someone having actually combed it; even more intriguing, though, it was a mild tint of silver. The wolf stopped a safe few feet away from them, its paws gracefully strained in the effort of sustaining its tense and cautious position over a tree-root. Its head was held high and a pair of wide human-like blue eyes looked back at the three, contemplative but otherwise lacking any trace of hostility. They all stayed their hands and watched, enraptured by the serene majestic beauty of this being.

"A lythari..." Ivendil finally managed to murmur softly in recognizance; the wood elf took a diplomatic step forward and nodded respectfully to the apparition.

The wolf's ears perked at the last word and its head lowered, coming a bit forward as it sniffed the air. The wind was slow and calm, but enough to carry their scent over to the animal, who inhaled it and cautiously issued its judgment. Once it had done so, it silently padded closer to them, stopping right in front of the archer to lock eyes with him. Ivendil smiled benevolently, and the wolf almost looked like it was smiling in turn.

All of them, however, were perfectly astounded by this new turn in the story. Solaufein looked distressed, realizing at once that there was knowledge he did not possess that Torri and Ivendil did. The other two were utterly surprised at the discovery; lythari rarely showed themselves in the Prime Material plane anymore, preferring to live in their remote forested realms. Gates to such realms were hidden all across Faerun, but only the lythari themselves knew where to find and how to use them.

"Lythari?" Torri almost gasped behind the archer, eyeing the wolf with increased interest. That brought the creature's own attention to her.

"What would that be?" Solaufein asked her, the only one of the three still on guard.

"Remote kin of... well, Ivendil's more than ours," the moon elf replied, her eyes still filled with the glee and the thrill of revelation, of a great discovery. She couldn't help but feel that way when faced with the prospect of such a rare encounter.

Solaufein, however, regarded the wolf doubtfully. "How could that...?"

His question was interrupted by a new movement of the silver wolf. It slunk back on its haunches and slowly began to grow, its form changing gradually into that of a fur-covered humanoid; in the end, that last element of the wolf faded into soft, pale skin. Only the blue eyes remained of the animal, who was now an exotic silver-haired female elf, complete with primitive-looking clothes that consisted of hides decorated with feathers and ancient bone jewelry. The final element came to add itself to her image, in the form of the raven; the bird took away from its high perch and descended in a mild spiral, coming to gently rest upon her forearm, which she carefully held forth to that purpose. From there, the bird continued to look at its three former 'targets', and Torri thought it looked irritably condescending.

"Vedui," the lythari came to deny the moon elf's suspicion of possible hostility, when she spoke a greeting melodically, though in an awkward accent. She did not intend to stop at that, but did so, for it was clearly difficult for her to find words.

Solaufein did not understand elven anyway, so he wondered little, but Torri and Ivendil knew the lythari rarely took upon their elven shapes and spoke even less frequently. Taking that as the explanation for her difficult speech, they nodded politely and patiently allowed her to recall the language. Still, they couldn't help but be curious about why she had come to them.

"Amin hiraetha (I am sorry)," she finally excused herself. "Nae saian luume'(It has been too long)."

Torri signaled to the archer to do the talking, while she would do her best and translate to Common for Solaufein. The wood elf wanted to object, at first, but the respect he bore for the lythari stopped him and he just nodded his acknowledgment.

"Lye rangwa (We understand)," Ivendil replied, wanting himself to sound reassuring, but in fact trying not to stagger. This was an odd moment for all, not just one party or the other.

The lythari, however, was no longer paying attention to him. Only then had she seemed to notice, while looking to see why Torri was translating, that the third member of their small group was drow. She regarded him warily for a moment, but her wild spirit was less quick to condemn than those of the 'civilized' elves, and acceptance came to her soon. She smiled complacently, showing that she respected their choice of a companion, whatever the base for it had been.

"I..." she struggled for the words again, even more heavily this time, taking large pauses. "... I could try... and speak Common."

Ivendil turned to glare Torri's way, obviously quite outraged by this turn, but the beautiful lythari came to his side, placing a hand on his shoulder tentatively, ready to withdraw it should he make any abrupt move.

"If it is not too great an effort," Torri staggered, feeling a little guilty about putting the wild being through such trials.

"It is not," the lythari woman replied, sure of herself upon those words, since the moon elf had already pronounced them for her. That, combined with her soothing touch, finally managed to calm Ivendil down to an extent.

"What is it we have done to deserve the attention?" Torri asked away, voicing her own honest wonder, as well as Ivendil's.

"I am worried..." she replied, with yet another difficult break, and obviously she had to skip a few words. "The humans... the forest..."

"What have they done?" Ivendil asked, glancing quickly in the direction of the Talassans' campsite, some sort of protective anger promptly beginning to build up inside him.

"The... unnatural storm," the woman answered. "Many trees... harmed. Animals... are wary... afraid. Their pleas have reached me... even in the other plane."

"You are, by nature, a guardian," Ivendil acknowledged. "But the damage they have caused must be immense, if you resented its effects."

"It is... a disturbance... in the order of... things," the lythari answered simply. "I must help."

"Then we stand by your side," Ivendil answered, a dangerous flicker in his eyes; they had not once left the direction where he knew the humans could be found.

Solaufein, who had been silent, acknowledging his lack of knowledge in this matter, shifted uncomfortably and looked to Torri for confirmation. The moon elf nodded sternly. "What can we do?" she asked the lythari, determination strong in her voice.

"Come," the woman replied. "I will show you."

They followed her, as best they could, trying to keep up with the fast pace she had set. Ivendil had the least trouble of them all, but his breath was no less accelerated when they finally reached a small glade, where grass grew fresh and tall among ruined marble columns and collapsed walls. The derelict here, however, was nothing like the one in the poor parts of human cities, nothing like that of their old abandoned castles; a general atmosphere of serene, sacred beauty reigned. Torri and Ivendil were delighted to find themselves there, as they closed their eyes and breathed the fresh air deeply; even Solaufein gave in to the charms of nature and dropped his guard, so that admiration could replace caution.

The lythari smiled and advanced to the center of the glade alone, giving them the time they needed to revel in the place's untainted beauty. Finally, when they were ready to follow, they did so, skipping through the shadows of the ancient ruins to stand by her in front of a small altar, surrounded by what looked like a druidic circle of stone.

"We must summon the spirits of the forest," she said resolutely, her language recovered now that she'd had more time to think. "They will know what to do with the intruders."

"Why do you need us, then?" Solaufein wondered. "Surely you could do it by yourself... or at least without me?" That last sentence caused Torri and Ivendil to exchange glances and then look to the lythari questioningly; it was their own opinion that a drow did not belong in the sacred rituals of surface elves.

"The color of your skin does not matter," the lythari replied kindly; turning to face Solaufein with a small smile, she ignored the others' scouring looks. "The spirits do not judge the body... they search the mind and soul."

"But..." Ivendil began to object.

She stopped him with a light hand gesture. "As long as he prays with the rest of us, for our common goal, he can help as much as any of you would."

"Pray?" the drow looked distressed and at a loss. "I cannot..."

"I will chant and call them," the lythari female interrupted him to explain patiently. "You will sense their presence when they arrive... you only need to send your thoughts out... reach for them and ask that they protect the forest. As long as you are sincere in your request, you will only add strength to it." She turned to the other two. "The same applies in your case."

Torri and Ivendil nodded determinedly, while Solaufein remained insecure, but he did not object anymore. The moon elf glanced at him briefly, pondering whether she should try to dissuade the lythari from that course herself. Strangely enough, the safety of the glade and the general warmth it extended to any who would require it, had quite a contrary effect on the moon elf. "You will do well," she reassured the drow, who regarded her a bit suspiciously, but ended up nodding.

They approached the altar, following the lythari's example, and knelt beside it one by one, forming a small circle. With one last shy smile to them all, the female closed her eyes and began to slowly murmur a few elvish words, which history had lost to the civilized elves in time.


	19. Chapter XIX

**Chapter Nineteen**

The only greeting the brigands really received from the three upon entering the clearing was the purple robed one's sigh and note of "I warned you something would happen. We are doomed." The other two elves were busy exchanging distressed glances, though somehow they seemed quite relieved to see it wasn't what they were expecting, whatever that might have been.

The band was composed of mostly rough men without much to show in the way of wits, some of them half-orcs, the rest humans, though all infallibly dressed in crudely made hide armors. Furthermore, the last four were strong, big centaurs armed with a score of sharp-tipped pikes each. Oddly enough, the leader, though clearly capable, muscular and fierce-looking as she was, was a woman; but that was by far the least of the reasons she stood out for.

Her own clothes and boots were elegant and tastefully picked, the dominating colors brown and green, to fit with the current setting and with the masterpiece studded leather that was all she had in the way of protection. Her hair, of a strange sandy color, but long and healthily thick, had been combed carefully and the strands that would have otherwise draped her cheeks were clasped together at the back, while the rest ran loosely down her neck and shoulders. Her features, covered by slightly tanned skin, did not impose on anyone through some unexpected amount of beauty, but the superior and carefree expression, along with some lively flickers in the defiant green eyes, made for quite a sight.

None of the three failed to notice those differences and they immediately wondered what the woman would be doing with a band of thugs and ruffians like those; and most of all, they couldn't fathom how she managed to keep the brutes in place. However, the men were, some way or another, completely subdued to their elegant leader, and that was really all that mattered right at that moment. Possibly they were hired hands, as the woman looked wealthy enough, and the prospect of gold kept them in place.

Each of the three looked at her intently for a different reason. Knave was the most intrigued of them, quite unable to help wondering who she was, exactly, and what she wanted from them. Nirra was wary and distrustful, but at the same time had to admire this woman who was not only leading, but also so confidently turning her back on a band that would most likely be tempted to bash her head and steal whatever they could of her possessions. As for our gloomy moon elf, he wasn't all too interested in any of those things, but was merely searching the leader and her band for weapons, wondering which one was going to end his life. He had to admit, the finely crafted darts or daggers she bore looked far more attractive than the clumsy tip of a primitive spear or the huge blade of a rusty sword.

The respectful, tense silence was maintained until the leading woman stopped a few steps away from the group of three, her band left a few good feet behind. Her stride was determined and fearless and she held her head raised high, somehow seeming to dominate even Knave, despite his half-charming half-contemptuous smirk.

"My greetings," she dipped her head low as she spoke firmly, though with a subtle Shaaryan accent. That was a speech mark that rarely vanished completely, which all in all left Knave with too little in the way of doubt regarding her origins. Nirra looked even more confused, while the purple robed moon elf was obviously in the process of trying to place that very same accent which had told the human mage everything. "And those of my men, of course," the woman continued, smirking amusedly and half-turning to point at the band with a hand gesture.

"Formalities," Knave remarked in a highly ironical fashion. "Why, I wonder, do they strike me as unexpected?"

The two elves' eyes widened at his daring reply and they both turned to regard him in a flash, quite awed and distressed. But the strange woman only laughed heartily and shook her head. "The same is it unexpected for them to be received so... unusually," she replied.

"True enough," the human mage shrugged, as the elves were relaxing visibly at his sides. "Though I wouldn't be quick to exchange formalities with anyone when a normally quiet and peaceful place like this one suddenly grows... crowded."

"I agree with you there," the woman nodded, a bit of her smile fading from her lips. Her men were shifting and had begun quarreling with each other, somewhere in the background, but they otherwise sat quite peacefully in their given spots, which was still unbelievable to the three.

"What is it, then, that you wish from us?" the human mage brought the conversation back to its actual point.

"Let me first introduce myself," the stern woman replied. "My name is Amirah Maali."

"Ironically enough," remarked Knave, "with the proper literary adjustments, it would end up translating as 'the noble leader', in Common terms." He took a moment to flash a triumphant smile at the suddenly surprised woman, then changed the subject. "Anyway, I am Selvord Knave – Knave will do. This is Nehera" – he hesitantly looked to Nirra for confirmation – "...Erenlin, and he is... err..." The mage found himself forced to turn towards their depressed companion expectantly.

"Me?" he startled and took a small, barely noticeable step backwards. "Xan," he said insecurely. "Xan... of Evereska."

The mage didn't spend much time wondering why the moon elf had added the name of the place he had come from, rather than anything else, and just turned back to the once again amused Amirah. "Now, since introductions are over," he resumed, "may we know what it is that you wish?"

"I want the very same thing the Talassans are after," she moved straight to the point.

Somewhere, Xan groaned audibly and didn't fail to notice how doomed they were, yet again, but aside from a bemused Amirah, everyone failed to take note of him.

"Oh, so now we have two groups on our trail," Knave whistled admiringly, without the fact managing to discard his good disposition.

"Three, actually," the woman grinned to him most charmingly.

"All the better," he appeared unaffected; quite pleased, actually. "Tell me, though. Why exactly is it that you are seeking it?"

"That I will not let you know," Amirah denied him access to that knowledge briskly. "I will only say that the object is far more valuable than you can imagine."

"Knave," Nirra interfered worriedly, daring to come at his side and regard Amirah directly. "You know I cannot..."

The woman interrupted her when she took an abrupt step towards her, eyeing the fragile, soft hand the gold elf had placed on the mage's shoulder. On its ring-finger, the reward received at the Temple of Umberlee shone plainly, like any other silver item would have in the fading afternoon light. However, it was obviously the object of Amirah's sudden interest. "There it is," the woman said, stopping just two feet away. "If you could be so kind as to hand it over, I would reimburse you. I'd be most pleased if I didn't have to kill you for it."

Nirra shook her head and sheepishly withdrew, hiding behind the mage's taller form, for whatever protection she thought to find there. "I cannot," she uttered fearfully, watching Amirah frown her way. "It's not that I don't want to. I would be happy to rid myself of it, but I cannot take it off."

"And why is that?" the woman demanded to know, her patience nearing a limit.

"Odd that you are all after this little item, yet none of you know all about it," Knave put in quite unceremoniously. "She spoke the truth. The ring cannot be taken off, because it is heavily cursed so that it will stay there until we have visited a very powerful cleric." He paused to glare at Amirah, who appeared to be taken aback by the news. "Of course," he then added sarcastically, "the last cleric we've tried to explain that to was a most 'benevolent' Talassan who failed to even listen, not to mention understand."

"Charming," the rogue-looking woman remarked coolly. "Very well then. I suppose the confrontation couldn't be avoided for long once I actually got the ring, anyway." She stood there, thoughtful, trying to come to a final decision.

"Oh, I know," interjected Xan darkly. "We are going to get dragged into a fight that isn't ours, and one where we can easily lose our lives, at that."

"Thrilling perspective, my friend," Knave nodded to him in mock-respect.

"You will accompany me to their camp," Amirah decreed at that point, allowing no objection to be made. "We will force their leader to remove the ring from your hand himself."

"And here," Xan was quick to add in again, "something tells me you know this leader, and he isn't too fond of you either."

"Astute guess," Amirah admitted, but then grinned at the three with a rather cruel kind of satisfaction. "But then again, you have no choice in the matter. Unless, that is, you have grown that bored with life."

"Life is hollow," Xan replied indifferently, shrugging. "We shall most likely perish on this futile quest of yours, anyway."

"Fine, then," Amirah didn't even attempt to look affected. "Who am I to disrespect your death wish?"

Just as she began to gesture for one of her men, and the half-orc was starting to come over, Knave cleared his throat most suggestively, and she waved the brigand back off. That seemed to confuse the mindless brute, but it stayed its moves nonetheless and returned to its previous quarrel with one of its comrades, all over a fruit they had picked from a tree nearby. Both lamentably failed to notice the significant number of other fruits in the tree.

"Please," said Nirra. "There is no gain to be had in killing him."

When Amirah didn't look convinced, the gold elf sobered up more and stepped out of Knave's shadows, trying to look tall, though her being an elf didn't help with that. Something in her eyes, though, that thing she hid most of the time and that Knave had witnessed calming down Torri in the City of Caves, surfaced again. She was pleading silently, though in a way that was demanding more than humbly requesting.

The band leader nodded shortly as she averted her eyes in a most uncomfortable fashion. "You have five minutes to confer and share whatever thoughts you wish to," she announced determinedly. "After that, you are expected to come meet the guys and follow as we point the way." She bowed shortly and turned. "And," she added, looking behind over her shoulder, "don't try to escape. I assure you that my centaurs are excellent shooters."

"I don't doubt it," Knave muttered darkly.

The three stood there and watched Amirah depart back to her men, ordering them to stop bickering and be ready, with a few senseless interjections and firm gestures, much more rather than with words. The brigands responded, and Knave noticed they were quite fearful of their leader. The woman didn't strike him as a versed warrioress, though, and he wondered, for the second time, why they respected and feared her enough to listen so promptly.

"Well?" the mage finally turned back to his own two companions, with an intent glance at Nirra. The gold elf had surprised him yet again; if Torri was difficult to control, it had been expectable that she should calm down – the gold elf was her old friend. But things were not the same with Amirah.

"Thank you both for saving my life earlier," Xan nodded to them, though still gloomy, and he didn't fail to add more. "Pointless as it has been, of course, since I am going to die in the battle."

"You are not going to die," Nirra objected, smiling to him reassuringly. She was back to her normal self now, that Amirah had gone.

"I will expend my best protection spells in your favor if you wish," Knave offered. The human mage grinned most charmingly. "I never use them for myself, anyway."

No one minded Nirra's disapproving frown, and Xan shrugged. "I thank you," he replied. "But I am a mage myself, and no spell completely wards against death."

"Three mages, then?" Knave looked surprised as he noted. "Well, this was quite what their band needed, anyway. I don't see those half-orcs as too proficient with spells."

That last remark drew a snort from even Xan himself, and Nirra giggled. "Are we ready then?" the gold elf asked, doing her best to hide her discomfort and distress from the two men.

"I guess we are," Knave raised a questioning eyebrow the moon elf's way.

Xan shrugged helplessly yet again. "I knew I had to die, eventually. This battle will do as good as any."

"No one is going to die," Knave contradicted him, a bit irate this time. "Let the fools charge headfirst and we can cast from a safe distance. I doubt they would lose to the Talassans, but in case they do, we could retreat in time."

Even Xan looked semi-convinced. "Your logic almost makes me hopeful," he remarked, though clearly not overjoyed by the perspective, as soothing as it sounded.

"Knave," Nirra interjected, suddenly worried as she had remembered something. "How about Torri and Solaufein?"

"Hasn't our friend here already deemed Torri dead, and the drow on the run?" Knave joked, but seeing Nirra's serious scowl, he continued. "I am sure we'll find them, but at the moment, they're the last thing we should be concerned with."

Nirra sighed and hesitated, unable to just discard her friend like that. "You... you are right," she finally nodded, doing her best to look determined and ready.

"Let's go, then," Knave urged. "Our dear friends are growing impatient."

He took the lead on the way to the large band of men, and Nirra followed promptly, not without throwing a last smile Xan's way, one that wished to appear encouraging, but was too weak for that. The moon elven mage sighed heavily and followed, though he did all he could to delay the moment of 'meeting the guys'.


	20. Interlude I

**Interlude One**

It was a most disturbing limitation, that of having to watch all through a small globe of magical energy like the one before him. Unable to do anything. Trapped. While they were out there, free and alive. It irritated the entity to no end, especially when he was so close, in physical terms; but unfortunate circumstances were often alterable in time and he had eternity to spend for just that effect.

"Our noble Nehera," he mused, pacing around the globe, his only window into the Prime Material Plane; the robed figure of the gold elf was visible through the divination's fog. "So innocent, so full of dreams that could lead to the world's salvation and betterment. Yours would be a most entertaining process of corruption. Though disappointingly easy, I expect."

The pacing ceased, coming to a slow end, and the looming figure neared the magical globe as much as he could without its energies absorbing him into nothingness... or trying to. His own power was not to be trifled with, contained though it may have been within that prison.

"Yes," he solidified his previous observations. "You and I are going to spend many enjoyable moments together, frail prime being."

He inhaled deeply, as though the scent of that, or of the gold elf, could reach to him through the enormously thick layer of ancient wards and protection spells of immense power that the mages of old had cast to keep him there. Successful they had been, for so long a time that he had witnessed the face of Faerun fall off to be replaced by another so completely it had become unrecognizable. But a throng of eons, though unimaginably much, was not forever. Not eternity.

A smile-like flicker of life, of interest, crossed the entity's body when the globe shifted and the image inside became another. "And you, Toreen," he addressed the new figure. "Thinking you are strong in your crust... thinking your lack of compassion will shield you from any more hurt. So proverbial and predictable of you, my dear. And so contradictory to the fires that burn within. Fires which I can increase. I can make you TRULY powerful, Toreen. You will see."

Oddly enough, the moon elven fighter startled and turned right at that point, in the middle of her small globe, which was capturing her image and showing it off without her knowledge of it. It almost looked as if she had perceived her spectator... but no; it was just the wood elf returning from his scouting and taking her by surprise.

"Ahh, Ivendil," the entity sounded intrigued. "You and your mysterious nature. Your tendency to hide from even your friends, for the sole reason that unpredictability is a valuable asset. And your secret wish to be admired and respected. I can offer that to you, little pawn, if you will play my game. I am curious how one of your make would deal with it."

A moment of silence was expended. "Show me more," he then commanded his magic and it had no choice but to obey its forcibly designated master. It glowed and twisted and contorted until the vision was brought to the slightly taller and more restless silhouette of a mage. A human mage.

"Selvord Knave," the entity commented, invariably interested. "Too free-spirited for your own good, too independent. Your greatest fear, in itself, is becoming what others wish you to be, or doing as another commands. Always have you been your own master." He shook his head in a most disappointed fashion. "Incorruptible. You will need to be broken. Much to my own pleasure. Next one."

For a few moments, nothing happened at all. The sphere firmly held on to its already formed image, and the entity had to frown and come to hover above it menacingly before it decided to obey and switched. He wondered for how long he could still control this tweak he had found, this small breech in the almost perfect weave of energy enclosing him within this wretched plane between existences.

It showed more than just one person this time; there was a group of Clerics, led by a shady hooded man, all saying their evening prayers to their cruel, tempestuous Deity. Beside, a band of primitive thralls stood by their elegantly imposing leader, a confident smirk on her lips. And facing her, with utmost regret for how things had come to be, were her two brothers... and her aged mother.

"Amirah, Amirah," the entity amused itself by repeating, with a not fully benevolent fondness. "Unlike Toreen... who, mind you, shall hate you at the first glance, because you are the embodiment of all she cannot achieve despite how she wishes to... you truly are strong. You need no one to share emotions with, for you verily are incapable of feeling anything for anyone but yourself. So many weapons are pledged to your service, and yet yours shall come pledge itself to mine. I choose you as the bearer."

The magic failed for a moment, threatening to be extinguished and gone, but a simple jest of his held it in place when it switched to the next target. Another mage, elven, purple-robed and invariably sullen, one who did not even bother to look around as he walked.

"Xan... of Evereska," the entity mocked sharply. "Useless you appear, from all possible and impossible points of view. And yet discard you I shall not, for foolish is he who ignores any factor of an equation. I have a task for you, then; one I need not tell you to perform, because you are doing that by yourself. Keep the morale in check... we don't need anyone getting too... exalted, do we?"

This time, it was not a mere flicker; it was in every way what a normal human would feel if they grinned out beaming satisfaction. His body almost radiated his interest, and even the magical sphere sensed how wicked and ill-intentioned the reasons behind it were, for it drifted away, starting to shrink.

"No!" the entity hissed, commanding it to stop. "Of all there is in this desolate, empty place, YOU are mine. MINE."

The magic quivered and the images blurred for a moment, but then it glowered back to life, flaring brighter. Its bristle-like renewal caused the entity to drift away; for a moment, he was convinced the powerful, semi-sentient magic was trying to exact some unconceivable revenge upon the one whose will bound it to follow the group of primes. In a process so slow that it almost looked like reluctance from the globe to show its master any more, the image shifted again. A darker figure was its new target.

"The incarnation of confusion herself," snickered the entity at this new apparition. "The drow, as they call it out there. One who will easily mold into anything I wish to create. One who would follow me blindly, were I the right path he so avidly seeks to recognize and determine for certain. Yes, little primeling, you will serve me well once I have shown you. You will murder all of them as they reach the point where I can no longer use their services. And then, realizing how irredeemably wrong you have been all along, you will murder the last one... yourself."

The fulfilled snort was so powerful that it filled the air with sparks and flamelets who danced around him like a group of insane glow-worms blown away by the wind. A massive hand made of shades and void reached out for the scrying magic and tore it into little bits with a single wild slash, so hateful and passionate that it would have terrified the bravest of men. He no longer needed it, not for the time being.

The entity was left in the dark, alone to his schemes and thoughts, as he had been for longer than he could even remember. Truly, it was an achievement, in an odd kind of way, when one could not remember the reasons behind the punishment they had received. When one could not remember what terrible act they had committed and what mistakes had been made in the attempt to avoid retribution's far-reaching hand.

It didn't matter anymore. New chances were being offered, for the first time in so long, and all had to be planned carefully, down to the smallest and most insignificant of details. Finding pawns was not a problem; most often, they found themselves.


	21. Chapter XX

**Chapter Twenty**

They took their time to study the group and devise a proper strategy to approach it, content to simply be able to watch from the shelter of trees at first; the Shaaryan woman looked a bit disconcerted by this detail at first, but then she just shrugged it away. The priests currently knelt on the ground in front of them weren't as numerous as Knave would have expected by the size of Amirah's band of brigands, although he understood why she had taken so many men with her as soon as he saw what they were up against. Eight of the priests looked like versed fighters, all wielding two-headed flails and wearing full suits of plate armor, as well as horned helms. It was only a natural conclusion to come to that numeric advantage was their only chance to win against a group whose members could easily heal each other or cast mind and movement affecting spells on their adversaries.

The ninth priest was obviously their leader; his armor's chest piece was decorated with the symbol of Talos, three bolts of lightning whose tips converged into the same point as they fell down upon a line supposed to depict the ground. Instead of a helm, his head was hidden in the deep cup of a pointed gray hood belonging to his heavy cloak, an item that obviously bore enchantments in the runes drawn on its back. He was holding his spear clasped between his hands in prayer, its tip aimed upwards, but he would no doubt be ready for combat at any point, just like the others; obviously, this last one was a Stormlord. If the legends were true, he would have been hit by lightning at one point in life and survived that unconceivable experience.

"None of that Magic Missile crap. I want you to cast powerful spells," Amirah explained to the three mages. "Spells that can individually kill or incapacitate one opponent. My men will keep them busy enough for you to work your way through those complicated incantations." She looked at them to make sure they had understood, and smirked. "If you're capable, of course."

"We might have a few," Knave shrugged innocently. "The great part is I might just miss and hit you instead... wouldn't that be a shame?"

"Don't push your luck, fool," Amirah snapped at him deftly. "Without me, whichever party wins will dispose of you, and you know that."

Knave only smiled to her with unaffected nonchalance. "Will try to," he corrected sensibly.

"Fine, boast away," the Shaaryan woman rolled her eyes at him, not needing to make it any more obvious she knew he was teasing her and wasn't impressed. "Remember: the leader stays alive, as our captive." She turned and began making for her own men, to place the last orders.

"Wasn't our situation hopeless enough without you doing that?" Xan asked the human a few moments later, when no other pair of ears could hear, except Nirra's. He sighed deeply; there had been no trace of reproach in his voice, only mournful regret for a life he was sure to lose soon.

"Trust me, my friend," Knave patted his shoulder sympathetically. "We're not gonna die."

"I wish I could tell you your hopes were well founded," the moon elf replied with a shrug. "But I would be lying."

"It's not wrong to hope," Nirra stepped into the conversation, as gentle as usual. "Hope fills the heart with strengths that otherwise wouldn't be there."

"And it also makes things worse when the expectations are not met," Xan replied hollowly, adamant about his view of things.

"Let's just concentrate," Knave ended the whole charade. "I'm sure having this dialogue is even less useful than hoping."

Indeed, when they looked back at the group of priests, they saw Amirah had given the signal and was now stepping out of the bushes and into the small clearing that hosted the Talassans. Her cohorts followed suit, in a way Knave wouldn't have imagined to be possible; they were actually being silent and stealthy. Trying not to stare in awe at the nearest pair of half-orcs, the three mages remained behind and were the last to approach. They kept to the shadows, waiting for whatever discussion appeared to be pending between Amirah and the Stormlord.

None of the clerics bothered to look at the arrivals at first and the Shaaryan motioned for her men to stop for the time being; apparently she knew better than to abruptly deprive Talos of his followers' prayers and risk the Strom God's wrath. Finally, when enough homage had been paid, the leader used his spear for support to stand up swiftly; the other clerics took his example one by one, in a very disciplined and well coordinated fashion. They all eyed the brigands quietly, while the Stormlord's eyes, a mildly electric shade of blue, shone forth from the darkness inside the hood and stared intently at Amirah.

"I was expecting you, young one," came the words from the hidden pair of lips; it was a strong voice, obviously versed in leadership, so unlike those of the good-aligned clerics of, per example, Ilmater or Lathander. "And where is your family, if I may ask?"

"Our interests... split," Amirah retorted coolly, though mischief was clearly a resident of her tone at that point. "And, how odd, it seems mine found it fit to involve you in their little scheme."

"Tell the mages to come out," the Stormlord skipped right to the point, though he was highly ironical. "Or, what is that?" Looks like you don't need to anymore."

As Amirah was vaguely turning to look behind, her features contorted with rage and frustration at her own self and the mistake she had made. A considerably larger group of priests came out from the trees and quickly encircled her own band; three of them were securely dragging the mages with them, strong arms easily managing to hold the spellcasters, whose physiques weren't fit for situations like that.

"I'm terribly sorry," the Stormlord excused himself mockingly when Amirah's bloodlust-filled eyes turned upon him.

"I will never surrender," the Shaaryan woman replied sternly. "Men, attack!" The very next moment, a dagger in each hand, she had leaped at the priest and tumbled him to the ground; clenched together, the two began a struggle for control, so balanced that it would have been impossible to predict the winner. All around them, battle cries flowed forth from the men as they lunged at each other in groups, each party, fighter or priest, fiercely determined to kill. Only the three clerics holding the mages remained in place to continue keeping their prisoners' hands immobilized as they watched the small carnage.

"Stop this madness!" Knave shouted at the battling groups in a vain attempt to contain them.

He cast a worried glance to Nirra, as they and Xan seemed to be the only ones noticing how fast the wind had begun to blow, and how the trees howled sinisterly in the background as they cast their leaves out to the currents in disarray. The three Talassans holding them were enjoying the battle too much to pay any attention to their dialogue or concerns.

"We are doomed," Xan declared. "The forest itself is rebelling; nature will slay us all for causing this disturbance."

"I wouldn't go that far," Nirra said frowning, although her elven spirit could feel the fury of the surrounding forest as well as he could. "But certainly some great power is stirring."

"What are you talking about?" Knave's gaze shifted from one to the other, demanding an explanation.

"I'm not sure what it is," Nirra tried to explain, while Xan just managed to look even gloomier than usual. "A presence... in the trees..."

The human mage did not look comforted by that and squirmed abruptly; the priest who had him captive, lost in the frenzy of watching bloodshed and wishing he would be taking part, was caught unaware and toppled forward, while Knave escaped his grip agilely. A Magic Missile erupted from his hands the very next moment, stunning the Talassan when it hit his armor.

Just when he thought he was safe, Knave felt a strong hand grip his arm and someone forcefully pulled him down to his knees. "What do you think you're doing?"the man asked. It had been easy for the cleric to clasp both Nirra's fragile hands together in the grip of just one of his clenched fists and use the other hand to retain Knave. The next moment, the former captor was back to his feet and did not shy away from applying a swift kick to the mage's stomach before taking him back from his comrade.

Groaning, Knave had no choice but to recover from the blow as quickly as possible, when the Talassan almost ripped his arm out of its natural place in an attempt to pull him back to his feet. The human stood, ignoring the pain, as fire blazed deeply in his eyes although the rest of him looked docile and regretful about his former actions. Nirra's concerned, but scornful look was telling him not to attempt anything like that again; he pretended not to notice.

And it was then that the greater, older trees on the clearing's edges shifted; the earth shook as they abruptly pulled their roots out of the ground and used them as whips, slamming them back down. All who were still standing collapsed to the ground and rolled about frantically, unable to control their directions as the thumping continued to pour down heavily. White mist flooded into the scene from between the attacking trees and only when the spirits had formed completely did the roots cease the ordeal, falling limply back to the ground.

"You have disturbed this sacred forest enough," spoke a mighty, wind-carried voice, and the greatest of of the mists, whose shape was that of a large eagle, shifted closer to the spot where Amirah and the Stormlord remained clinging to each other and waging a silent, motionless war with their glaring eyes.

Their bodies were still tensely clenched together, each of them holding to the other fiercely as they looked one another in the eyes, none willing to cede first. The spirit loomed about them, its faint shadow befell both and only then did they seem to notice their 'spectator'; both looked up at the same time and let go of each other dismally, to crawl away in the grass. The mist-form seemed interested in the Talassan alone, for it was him that it pursued.

All about the clearing, men from both warring sides were beginning to perk up from the grass, rubbing their temples and blinking their disbelieving eyes at the group of bird and animal shaped spirits flying above their heads. The three left behind with the mages had fallen as well, along with their prisoners, and all were now coming back to their senses in quite different spots than the original ones. Knave found himself looking at Nirra and Xan across the whole scene; the moon elf was muttering something and the human had little doubt it was a reference to how hopeless and doomed they were.

Just then, to the left, another figure made its way into the clearing, a slender, sliver-haired woman with a raven that came from above the treetops and settled upon her shoulder. Right behind, three more elves stopped to catch their breaths from so much running, and these Knave recognized all too well; Nirra and Xan did too, for they both startled and went through a quick exchange of words. When they had gathered enough breath, the three arrivals began scanning the place as well and it wasn't long before they had discovered their friends. None had any more time to react, though, for the greatest of the spirits spoke again.

"What have you to say in your defense?" demanded the angry mist eagle, towering above the stunned Stormlord.

"I..." the man replied and only those who were close, like Amirah and Knave, were able to hear. "I am unaware of my crime." A weaker mind would have given in faced with so much pressure, but not the priest who had theoretically survived a strike of lightning. Knave noticed his hood had fallen off in the struggle and he looked old and weary, though he knew that to be delusive.

"Your recklessly used magic has disturbed the forest greatly!" roared the spirit, as it turned and its oversized eagle head came to face the cleric directly. All around, his men were praying to their God for salvation, but apparently not even Talos would stand against nature's unleashed wrath.

"We were not aware of that," the Stormlord defended humbly, not taking too much pain to hide his fear.

"You shall suffer the consequences, as is rightful!" the eagle decreed. The other spirits shifted and all darted off at once, sweeping the clerics, dead and alive, off the ground in a single mighty wave, while the others were spared.

The terrified men screamed desperately, but they were all carried forth and lifted above the trees, and soon the whole group vanished from sight along with the spirits themselves. The rest were left sitting there, none daring to move as a rain of dislocated leaves poured down on them and covered the tumbled grass with a mantle of different greens.

Eventually, they all noticed there had been more witnesses to this last scene: two tall men, their skin the same color as Amirah's and their features similar to hers, identical with each other's. Standing between them, proud, though visibly shaken, was an aged woman wearing a long blue dress and holding a staff in one hand.

The first to move was Amirah herself. "Blast it!" cursed the woman as she darted to her feet. Furiously, she began to skip through the newly formed thickness of the carpet, kicking leaves away at every step; no doubt, she was searching for her daggers. In the unsuccessful process, she came to stand before the three new figures, casting hateful glances to all. "Why are you here?" she asked coldly. "The ring is mine!" A small gesture and, one by one, her hired hands began to stand up, forming a silent threat to any who would show they intended to stand against her.

"The ring is the family's, Amirah," the elder woman replied calmly. Her graying hair and weary body did not make her look subdued to her younger interlocutor at all.

"No, 'mother'," the Shaaryan leader made it quite obvious she disagreed, as well as how she loathed her relation with the other woman. "You fools are not conscious of the powers that reside within it. You are merchants. Go back to running our late father's business if you know what's best for you."

"We will not," one of the young men replied decidedly; obviously, the twins were Amirah's little brothers, although their height begged to differ. Only an experienced eye, who was careful enough to study their facial expressions, could have said that their sister was older than them, and Knave's was that eye.

"The gold elf has the ring at the moment," Amirah gave in with a sigh and pointed to Nirra. Then, she shook her head. "Fools!" she hissed, her anger flaring back up the next instant. She grabbed her mother's arm and ushered her three relatives into the forest; her men began to follow, but she waved them away, making it clear they should remain and guard the group of adventurers.

The family reunion's departure seemed to remind the companions, who were now standing, that despite how interesting the entire scene was, they had found each other again and were supposed to react. All three parties involved rushed to the center of the clearing, while the half-orcs and centaurs silently posted themselves at the edges, watching.

Nirra and Torri were in each other's arms in no time, and shared a brief, but enthusiastic hug. Then, side by side, they surveyed the others and each seemed to remember something in turn.

"Ivendil!" the gold elf cried in delight, darting away from Torri to throw herself into the archer's welcoming arms.

The wood elf, was, in turn, less surprised but not any less enchanted to see her and he received her warmly, stroking her hair gently as she clung to his neck. He smiled and whispered a few elven words to her, unheard by anyone else.

At the time time, the two moon elves stared at each other. "...Xan?" Torri asked incredulously, almost as if she was unsure of what her eyes showed her.

"Toreen," the purple-robed mage nodded, a bit less surprised, having in mind he had already known she was in the area. "You are... alive." One of his eyebrows came up with a bit of disbelief, and he glanced to the drow for a moment.

"As much an optimist as ever, mellonamin," Torri shook her head and grinned, perhaps at the happiest Knave had ever seen her. None seemed to notice they were, unlike Nirra and Ivendil, using Common, by reflex.

All in all, Knave was left with Solaufein. "Welcome back?" the mage smirked to the drow, nudging him in a friendly manner. "And ease away, you're safe now."

The drow attempted a brief, polite smile, although he still kept looking about, trying to find something that obviously wasn't there anymore.

"The silver-haired girl that came with you," the human understood immediately, driven by his own curiosity. "Who was she?"

"I'm not sure," Solaufein replied, turning to face him.

As the two pairs of reunited elves shared tales of their most recent whereabouts and each inquired of what they wished to know from the other, the drow took time to recount their meeting with the lythari to the human. Overall, they all had enough to discuss; just as much as the family settling their own problems some good feet away into the forest.


	22. Chapter XXI

**Chapter Twenty One**

Amirah only stopped when she had estimated about 200 yards from the clearing where the Talassans had recently been swept away by the spirits. No one had followed – her men wouldn't have allowed any of the six to leave before she returned. Hopefully, they weren't stupid enough to attempt and stand up to her entire band. Spinning to once more face her family, whose other members had docilely stopped a few steps away from her, she scowled.

"Well?" the woman demanded an explanation that, by all semblances, she did not truly expect to receive. One of her eyebrows came up into a fine arc as she waited.

"Well what?" her mother did a perfect job of imitating her tone and staring straight into her eyes. The woman's two sons stood by her, menacingly grim.

Amirah sighed impatiently and rolled her eyes. "You have no claim over the ring," she insisted stubbornly. "It is the only thing father left ME. You got all the rest."

"We all know you've had your influent friends forge our father's will, Amirah," one of the brothers replied sternly, refusing to back off one single inch of ground.

"Prove it." The smirk on the Shaaryan warrioress' lips by that point said more than any possible proof ever could. Alas for the other three, it was no official evidence that could stand up for their case.

"What has greed made of you, my daughter?" the mother sighed, her shoulders slumping under the burden of regret. "I do not recognize you."

For a moment, the Shaaryan leader's own fierceness faded away and she averted her gaze from the aging woman she had before her. A remnant of respect, perhaps. "I have already explained the three of you – in detail, no less – that the powers which reside within the ring are too much for your simple minds."

"You have also failed," one of the brothers retorted sharply, "to mention which powers those are, exactly."

"You see, Amirah," the other came to add, "it is not about the ring itself, powerful though you say it is. We wish to know why you did this to your family. Then you can keep your damned ring."

"I could lie to you, ensure your safety and make myself look like an ordinary swindler. Or I could tell the truth, restore myself and damn all of you." The warrioress looked at them intently, pleadingly. "But no. I beg of you, leave this curse to me." Amirah turned away from the three to look in the distance, to whatever spot she could make out between tree trunks. "Go home," she bid soothingly. "You have more than you need."

"No, Amirah," the mother said sadly, shaking her head. "We have the right to know, just as much as you do."

"Can't you see I'm trying to protect you?" the daughter turned upon her older interlocutor and almost shouted straight in her face, her fiery temper erupting once more. She then gritted her teeth and pulled away again, apparently shaken by a fit of agitation and rage that no one would have thought the noble, collected leader possessed.

"From something we do not wish to be protected from," came the unanimous reply.

"Fine!" the warrioress shrugged nervously and fixed all of them with a glare, as an ensemble. "So long you have stalked me for this and now I am found. You wish to know and you shall. But await your death to come and me to be incapable of stopping it." Silence ruled for a few moments, as the family awaited the rest of the answer with the same determination. A resigned Amirah finally continued. "There is an ancient d..."

Her words were cut short by a sound so feeble and natural that most wouldn't even have noticed it. But she was a perceptive one, having been forced to always run and hide in the utmost secrecy of all; she knew when someone was lurking about – listening. "A spy!" she growled, and grabbed a dart from the pouch on the side of her belt. "Nobody spies on me, no matter their intent." The very next moment, she was off in the woods, a baffled mother and two equally confused brothers left behind.

* * *

It had gotten dark enough quickly from there; afternoon was already at its end when Amirah had dragged her mother and brothers away to talk. The family had returned without the warrioress, and though the two merged parties – who had decided it would be wise not to try and escape while surrounded by a throng of thugs – were pretty curious about her absence, they did not ask anything of the three morose figures.

Ivendil had easily managed to light a proper fire, contained within a circle of rocks he had found... well, wherever he had found them. The party had other, more pressing matters to discuss than bothering about that. Nirra had quickly joined the archer by the flames and had assured the others she would properly fill him in on their situation; it seemed like the two gold elves had many memories and news to share, and the others fully respected their decision to isolate themselves.

Torri had withdrawn from the fire enough to give space to the two and she had dragged Knave with her most determinedly, demanding her own explanation. Xan and Solaufein could obviously not remain alone together, so they were forced to follow the pair as well. The small group of four was seated a safe distance away from any of Amirah's relatives, any of the the half-orcs and various other brigands, as well as respectfully distanced from Nirra and Ivendil.

"So you're telling me everyone we've seen here is after that little ring?" Torri raised a disbelieving eyebrow Knave's way once the mage was done with the story.

The full extent of it was that the human and Nirra had known about the Talassans' pursue of the object ever since before leaving Brynnlaw. The cause for them arriving later than the ship's scheduled departure had been the violent encounter with a rather disturbed Priest of Talos; the man had preferred to think they were lying about not being able to remove the ring and attacked them. Furthermore, Knave's suspicions went as far as to insinuate that the storm which had thrown them off board had been provoked by the priests; the initial purpose was probably to get the ship off its course and shipwreck it on the coast. Nirra's fall into the waters had destroyed that plan and the Talassans had probably thought the ring lost forever... until the party had emerged from the Underdark. Torri and Solaufein could figure it out by themselves from there, the ambush at the cave included, and they were also explained about Amirah. The only question that remained was how exactly the two groups had been able to track them down so efficiently.

"Yes," Knave responded, nodding. "The Talassans wanted it, Amirah wants it, by all semblances her family wants it too."

"But why?" Torri mused, rather indignant about it all. "What could be so important about it; what does it do?"

"It doesn't matter, Toreen," Xan said with a deep sigh. "We probably won't survive long enough to see anyway. So you can save the effort and stop tormenting your mind with pointless questions."

"Thank you, Xan, that was most useful to know," she rolled her eyes at him.

"Hope dies last," he muttered in response.

Oddly enough, though Torri did her best to look exasperated, her smirk begged to differ. However, she did return to seriousness the very next moment, and much to all three of her companions' sheer amazement, she turned to Solaufein. "Drow. Any suggestions?" she demanded promptly.

The three joined together in a surprised session of confused staring, but finally the drow shrugged. "I am not familiar with the way you surfacers imbue your items with magic," he said. "But this Amirah does seem to have been after the Talassans as much as after the ring. What if the priests possess any key to unlocking more of the item's magic?"

"That could be an idea," Knave agreed. "More plausible a theory than all we have thought of so far."

"And definitely more plausible than us all being totally and utterly DOOMED," Torri grinned, with pompous mockery, as she was poking at Xan's arm. The mage only managed to look even more miserable as he continued to eye the ground in a highly lifeless state.

"The lythari," Knave interrupted, a sparkle of hope suddenly rising in his voice. "Might she know anything about it?"

"She probably did," Xan did not fail to note. "But, lucky as we are, she left."

"I did doubt the Talassans would have harmed the forest enough to invoke THAT kind wrath from the spirits," Torri hurried to agree, ignoring her gloomy old friend this time, as she eyed the human.

"And the way they felt when we reached out to them," Solaufein said. "I know how it feels when you wish for rightful revenge. That was not the emotion they conveyed."

"True enough," the moon elven fightress agreed. "But we must not forget the spirits are not avengers, they are defenders."

"At any rate," Knave attempted to sum it all up. "The lythari MIGHT know something. And, as Xan was eager to point out, she DID leave."

Even Xan himself looked up from the ground and they all exchanged insecure and worried glances; eventually, four pairs of eyes ended up looking at Nirra and Ivendil. The two gold elves were just laughing quietly at something one of them had said; overall, they seemed pretty tranquil and unconcerned.

"I may be able to subtly pry more from Amirah herself," Knave offered. "But I cannot promise much, with her temper."

"Worth trying," Torri nodded her agreement to him, and stood up abruptly, dusting torn blades of grass off herself. "But we need to find the lythari."

"Need to no more," Amirah's voice came calmly from their right and soon her smiling face emerged from the shadows. "And by the way... just try to 'pry out' anything, and you'll see what happens."

Just then, she tossed an object about the size and feel of a ball to the ground and it coincidentally rolled over to Xan's feet. The mage startled and his eyes widened as he drew back from the scene. The expressions on his companions' faces were no less distressed and outraged. The sight even managed to capture a casual glance of Ivendil's and turn it into an authentic stare.

"What have you done, foolish, reckless human?" the wood elf half-lamented, half-accused in outrage as he sprang to his feet and came over, followed by an equally horrified Nirra.

For a few more moments, no member of the group said anything else, while Amirah grinned and they all stared down at the blood-stained silver-haired head in the grass. The expression on the beautiful features was one of horror and pain, the final agonizing moment of an innocent who would never harm a thing without serious purpose.

"If anyone wants the raven, I left that one in the forest," Amirah finally broke the moment of stunned bewilderment. "I could perhaps still point the right direction." She sneered, seeming more than just amused with the entire situation.

"Your deed will not remain unpunished," Ivendil advanced on her, his bow strung and an arrow ready for a close-quarter shot, a move that had been so swift no one had noticed it at all. His eyes flashed with an anger that knew no limits, well concealed though it may have been beneath the mask of solid stone that was his expression at that moment.

"Really?" the bold woman taunted recklessly. In the blink of an eye, her hand had reached out with lightning reflexes and she snatched the arrow right out of his bow, easily tossing it away and leaving behind a vibrating string. "Do not try any move on me again," Amirah warned and carelessly turned her back on them all, beginning to stroll away.

Ivendil had another arrow ready in a matter of seconds, and he aimed precisely the very next moment, but before he could shoot, he had to yelp in surprise and drop his weapon. A dart stuck out from the back of his wrist, and he pulled it out with a free hand that trembled awfully with rage.

Before he could blindly launch himself into an attack that would most likely end in his death, as Amirah obviously desired, Torri stepped forth and placed an unusually heavy hand on his shoulder. The wood elf could hear his bones crack under the pressure of grasping fingers and he had to turn around like the moon elf wanted him to or risk breaking one. Their eyes locked contact, and though he was grim and motionless in his righteous anger, Torri was the one that dominated. "You will avenge her, Ivendil," she said firmly. "But you cannot accomplish anything by following her in death."

A tense moment of silence was next, and then muscles relaxed and sighs erupted from all chests. Everyone else in the group had been watching.

Amirah's family had been watching, too. The party didn't notice when the mother and sons glanced at them for one last time and then gathered together and began to whisper. Apparently, the Shaaryan leader did not either, too busy re-ordering her men around.

* * *

As much as she would have liked to, after all she had been through, Nirra couldn't sleep. Curled up at the best distance from the fire and completely coated in her blanket, she lay still in the night, listening to the others' breathing. She was aware of the guards, all of them Amirah's men, standing on each edge of the clearing, but they were far enough – and stupid enough – for her not to worry they should notice her open eyes.

And then her ears caught the sound. It seemed to be a distant hissing fit, that beckoned for her to listen intently, to focus on it entirely. And so she did, without even realizing she had, in her frozen state and with her transfixed gaze locked on the moon above the small clearing.

"Nehera," it said, reeking of a sweetness and benevolence that almost felt material, as if they were wrapping around her and her blanket. "Why are you so weak?"

The gold elf flinched and was barely able to contain a gasp. She was scared. Yes, she was weak.

"You could be ssstrong," the invisible snake continued, and for a moment she almost thought she saw its elongated form slither through the grass towards her. Only an illusion. "Sssstronger than her, and you know it..."

Nirra knew who 'she' was. But she did not want to be...

"You ssssaw," the snake interrupted, and seemed to be pleased this time. "How he looked at her. While you are no longer more than a ssssimple friend."

_Friend._ The word echoed through Nirra's mind, and she felt her heart growing small at the thought of Torri and Ivendil growing close... so close. But she was, indeed, nothing more than a friend now. And things were good that way.

_And anyway, you do not want to imagine pointless possible futures,_ she mentally demanded from herself.

Indeed, she did not.

"Oh, but you will."

She would.

"YOU could be the sssstrong one... the admired one. You need but try. Sssnatch the power from her, Nehera."

Again, she would. When she was ready. For now, she wished to retain her innocence, her positive and helpful views of life.

"Cling to that, then," the snake seemed to chuckle, this time plain out malicious. "You will let go, in the end..."

And then it said no more. And Nirra did cling, with every fiber of her being. She did not want to believe the deceiver; for it WAS a deceiver.

And not once did the gold elf wonder about its source. Nor did she remember hearing it in the first place.


	23. Chapter XXII

**Chapter Twenty Two**

Morning crept in quietly through the gap in the curtain of trees, as the sun began to rise from the thicket. It caught everyone except the shift of half-orc guards soundly asleep or, in Xan and Ivendil's cases, sunken in Reverie; the other two elves had, each for her own reasons, chosen to sleep the way humans did. The fire had long died and what warmth had remained behind for a while more had ceded against the press of chilly morning winds.

Torri woke with her muscles stiff and lingered in the bedroll, shivering and pleading with herself to face the cold by coming out from below her blankets. Before she could accomplish that, Knave managed to precede her; she saw the mage first sitting up and shaking his blankets away carelessly, then stretching methodically and standing. He stared at the current three pairs of guards, then sighed and began to carry more of the wood that had been scattered around to the fire's former site.

"Let me help you with that," said Torri, as she dragged herself to a sitting position and rubbed her eyes to remove the last traces of sleep.

Knave turned to face her, still carrying a bunch of large lumps of wood and some twigs. "There's no need," he told her, shaking his head. "Better take the time and come to your senses properly." With that, he resumed his work on reigniting the fire; he started to arrange the wood into a neat pile in the center of a ring of stones.

The moon elf surveyed the scene – this was the most chaotic and disorderly camp she had ever seen. Assuming anyone else was in the area, there was no way they had remained unaware of its location. Not that it mattered, really; nothing or no one around would be stupid enough to attack.

The previous evening, Torri had, of course, removed her armor; no one in their right mind would wear metal for that long, no matter how light and flexible. She had shielded it from the environment's effects as best she could, by wrapping it up in another blanket. Luckily, that tactic had worked out well and her chain mail was safe for her to put back on. Coupled with the fabric of her shirt, however thin, its soft padding made her warm enough to get by, though she still felt frozen and clumsy.

Just when she arrived at his side, Knave finished reciting the words for some spell that ignited the wood, even despite its humidity, and the camp fire was brought back. Hugging herself, the moon elf stood there, staring down on the lively play of flames as they licked the wood and changed its composure.

"Should we wake the others?" Knave asked her in the end, shifting his weight as he turned to have a better view of Torri.

"Well," she was caught rather unaware by that question. "We could, but they're not urgently needed for anything."

"Amirah is missing," the mage announced on the most casual of tones. "I saw her rise and leave some good hours ago."

For a moment, the moon elf said nothing, only turned her head to look him in the eyes, while the only sound was the crack of firewood. He was quite surprised not to see her stress and rant about how he should have warned her when it happened, as he had expected she would.

"Why does a Shaaryan woman have a Calishite name?" she finally made a quiet inquiry.

Knave smirked. "I really thought I had been the only one to notice."

Torri's own expression was somewhat amused. "Our drow is also missing," she noted, in a somewhat secretive way.

The mage hadn't been aware of that, obviously, since his eyes drifted away in surprise, to check; indeed, Solaufein's improvised bedroll was empty also.

"And what might you have had to do with that?" he hazarded a guess, some sort of vaguely admiring interest for the moon elf's unexpected schemes surfacing.

"How astute of you," Torri teased, with a sly grin. "He wanted to see the moon, yes? I woke him up for that and, since we were talking and all... I asked him to be alert and keep an eye on Amirah. I watched her family, but they stayed here."

"They don't even know she left," Knave agreed. "I've been watching all of them on my own."

"I see," Torri quirked a brow his way and held his calm gaze for a moment, then turned her head, to look at the guards. They were far enough not to have heard a thing, but she still berated herself mentally for forgetting.

"So, where from?" Knave prodded a remark her way, not without amusement. "All that sudden tolerance for Solaufein. I'm impressed."

"He's got enough prejudice from Xan and Ivendil now," she explained with a shrug. "Doesn't need mine anymore."

"Interesting," the mage noted, unconcerned with hiding how intrigued he suddenly was. "Care to elaborate?"

"We do not change and grow through nurturing and safety," the moon elf replied sternly, flashing him a sharp glance. "We do it by facing and solving problems, or overcoming obstacles."

Knave hesitated; that wasn't the exact reply he had been expecting. "Not only," he dared to attack her opinion. "That is merely the hard way to do it. Quicker, maybe, but not necessarily more efficient."

"It is the only REAL way," she answered him promptly, on a tone that announced she would take no more contradictions kindly.

"Is that how YOU did it?" the mage pried.

The moon elf gritted her teeth together and began to clench her fists, before she could notice and break that move. "I was certain you would make such assumptions," she snapped.

"Much rather, reach such obvious conclusions," he smiled sensibly her way. "But... we are all entitled to personal beliefs and opinions..."

"Such as how I can't stand you," Torri muttered, then cleared her throat, to firmly mark the end of that discussion. "So, what is to be done for now?"

"I don't know about you," Knave shrugged, playing along, "but I'm going to try and outwit those guards in a manner that's actually useful."

"Well, that's surely going to be difficult," Torri mumbled a sarcastic remark aimed at his departing back.

Admittedly, the moon elf was surprised he had agreed to drop the subject and leave her be, at least for the moment. Well, things being what they were, she could focus on keeping and eye out for Amirah's return. Also, it wouldn't be bad if she could still follow the conversation from time to time, as much as possible from simply reading lips every now and then.

"Good morning, Miss," a voice – a man's voice – didn't allow her to carry out any of the two plans.

Torri turned around, to see one of Amirah's brothers standing a few feet away and looking at her, with a pleasant smile on his face. Sure, he looked polite and all that, but she didn't trust him.

"If you say so..." she muttered to herself, then forced a smile of her own to flash out briefly before speaking louder, for him to hear. "Same to you."

The man closed in a few more steps and stopped only to look at the fire thoughtfully.

"My name is Zorn," he offered.

"Toreen," the moon elf responded mechanically, pretending not to see the hand he had held out.

He had to lower it,eventually, but she could see him smirking discreetly as he did so, rather amused by the entire situation.

"Do you want anything?" the moon elf moodily renounced every last ounce of politeness she might have had left.

"Actually, yes," the man nodded, turning his head to stare at her insistently. "I'm sorry that I won't offer much in the way of an explanation, but... goodbye."

Torri blinked and her mouth opened to say something, just the moment he apparently spoke out the last syllable of a spell whose incantation he had somehow managed to put on hold while he addressed her. Before she could even draw her sword, not to mention strike the man down, the air around her shifted into a foggy whirlwind and, by the time images began to clear out again, she was nearly dizzy. Shaking her head and trying to dismiss the urge to lose consciousness, the moon elf took a sweeping look of her current surroundings.

Obviously, the spell had transported her somewhere else, but it seemed she was still in the forest, since trees were all around her. Aside from that, she could tell nothing at all about her location; not its distance or direction related to their camp's position, and not even if it was the same forest or not. There was only room for one certainty – she was completely lost.


End file.
